Move Along
by Stahlfan125
Summary: Sequel to A Beautiful Lie. LisaXJackson, plus many OC relations. The END! Jackson, Vincent, and Harrison all convene to start the final attempt of a takedown. PLUS! Epilogue!
1. Your Hands Are Mine To Hold

Well, here it is at last! The sequel to A Beautiful Lie! It's called Move Along (the title, of course, coming from the All American Rejects song) It's going to be a lot more romantically based than the last one, which should be happy for most of you, if not all of you. I'm pretty excited about it, hahaha.

Please, please, please review and tell me your thoughts. And, as a little note, this one takes place three months after the last one, meaning that its not _directly _after the whole Andropov incident. Just so no one gets confused about the friendliness between Lisa and Jackson or anything. Also, I'm going to try to make it like of…almost 24ish. Because I LOVE that show, hahaha.

Okay, so that should be it! Please review :D!

* * *

**Chapter 1 – **Your Hands Are Mine To Hold

_Go ahead as you waste your days with thinking.  
__When you fall, everyone sins.  
__Another day and you've had your fill of sinking.  
__With the life held in your...  
__Hands are shaking cold  
__These hands were meant to hold..._

_Speak to me  
__When all you got to keep is strong  
__Move along; move along like I know you do  
__And even when your hope is gone  
__Move along; move along just to make it through  
__Move along..._

_So a day when you've lost yourself completely  
__Could be the night when your life ends  
__Such a heart that will lead you to deceiving  
__All the pain held in your...  
__Hands are shaking cold  
__**Your hands are mine to hold...**_

_Speak to me  
__When all you got to keep is strong  
__Move along; move along like I know you do  
__And even when your hope is gone  
__Move along; move along just to make it through  
__Move along..._

Move Along  
All American Rejects

* * *

It had been six months since the red eye flight. Six months, and it felt like forty years to Lisa. It had only been three months since the Andropov Operation, but it felt, if possible, even longer. There was some light in the darkness of time stretching out endlessly, however; Lisa's life was finally getting back together.

She still worked at the Lux, though she had stopped being such a workaholic and had settled back to work casually. Her therapist had advised it (yes, her parents had eventually forced her into therapy, which surprisingly wasn't all that bad). He said that she should really avoid stress because she had just gotten over a trauma, and that could do something to her brain. Lisa was sad that she had to give up all the time spent at the hotel; which was, really, her _life_, but she managed well enough.

With her newfound free time, Lisa found that there was a lot more stuff to do than she had thought there was when she was working all the time. She visited her father a lot more than she had; going out to eat every so often and sometimes just going over to watch a movie. The Andropov Operation had really brought them closer than they ever had been, especially since he didn't say anything bad regarding her newfound friends at the complex.

That was where she was when she _wasn't_ at work, at her father's, or at Cynthia's; the complex. She had become a regular there; Sal knew her name and welcomed her brightly whenever she walked up to the guardhouse door. She knew roughly how many steps it took to get to the bottom of that long, winding staircase (She got a different number every time; there were too many stairs to keep straight.) Once she got into the complex, she would see the people she knew, and she would smile and wave on her way to Jackson's apartments. Then, she would knock on the door, he would open it, pretend to be surprised, and they would hug, always with a hint of awkwardness, before walking out to the bar to get something to drink, or maybe to the ice cream stand that Vincent had installed in the center.

In the three months since the destruction of Jimmy's complex, Vincent had done what he had set out to do and he had rebuilt the complex to its former glory. Walls had been repainted and rewallpapered, and all of the floors had new carpets or tiles installed. Every secret entrance had been completely closed up, though several ones had been made that only Jackson and Harrison knew of. The secret entrances included doors with codes that each of the men had to memorize.

Perhaps Vincent's biggest feat was the improved security around the complex. Before the attack, security had been weak at best. It was for that reason that the attackers had been able to sneak into the complex so effectively. The first thing he did was replace the ancient steel front door with another, stronger door. This door (he claimed) had no weaknesses, and couldn't be penetrated with anything short of a nuclear missile. Rather than have the guard at the door identify the visitor by peeking through an eyehole, he had a security room near the center of the complex that was connected to various security cameras throughout the upper building and in front of all of the entrances. When the security officer saw a visitor approaching, he would speak with them over an intercom, and if he deemed the visitor fit to enter, he would press a button that would open the door, where guards would be waiting to escort the visitor inside.

This was all very complicated, especially for the complex, which had run solely on manpower before. There was nothing fancy about it or the way it ran. Many people who were attached to the old ways said that Vincent's vision of the complex was destroying the spirit of the group. However, the vast majority thought it was an amazing idea. They thought that if it protected their people, then they were all right with it. No one wanted a repeat of the horrible massacre three months before

Lisa, Jackson, Vincent, Harrison, and Scarlett (who had nearly completely healed from her injuries) had all become very close friends. Lisa would have never imagined that she would be _friends _with people who killed other people for a living, but a part of her was beginning to understand them, and she was definitely attached.

All things considered, life was going well for Lisa Reisert. However, a time was upon her when her peaceful existence would be thrown into turmoil once again.

* * *

"Okay, so Jane and Sarah Goodman are staying in suite 4056, and they want champagne," Cynthia said nervously to Lisa one day as they stood behind the front desk.

"So get them champagne," Lisa said in a tone that suggested that was obvious.

"Well, yes, but…"

Cynthia trailed off as a man came to the front desk, smiling oily.

"Hello," he said with a cheerful smile. "My name's Andrew Palmer. I'm looking for my brother-in-law, Derrick. Could you tell me his room number?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but we can't give out that kind of information," Lisa said calmly to him. "If you'll leave a message, I can make sure it gets to him right away."

"I need to talk to him right now," the man called Andrew said, pointing one grubby finger at Lisa and then slamming it down on the desk. "Do you understand?"

"I understand, sir," Lisa replied with an unwavering smile, though her eyes flashed angrily. "But you have to understand that we cannot give out the information that you want. Now, if you'll fill out a message…"

"No, no, I don't want to fill out a message," Andrew said, rapidly losing his patience. "This is urgent. My wife is very, very sick and she _needs_ to talk to him."

"I'm sorry about that, sir," Lisa said quietly. "But there's nothing I can do. If you fill out a card, I will personally take it to his room and tell him that you're here."

"Goddammit!" Andrew screamed suddenly, ripping a gun out from under his coat pocket. Everyone in the lobby had turned to look at the shouting, and saw that the man had a gun and was pointing it right at Lisa. People began to scream and panic. "Listen to me, bitch! I want you to tell me right now what room Derrick Salisbury is staying in, or I swear to God, I will shoot you in the fucking face."

Lisa tremulously moved forwards towards her computer, glancing back at Cynthia, who had frozen in place.

"Sir, may I ask _why _you want this man's room number?"

"So I can bring him some fucking chocolates," Andrew sneered, laughing in a wheezing voice at his joke. Lisa glanced at the people who were rapidly beginning to push out of the lobby and into the street. He was stupid to let them all go out there, and she didn't know why he wouldn't have thought of that before, but she didn't say anything.

"Sir, this isn't the best way to go about it," She said calmly instead as she typed in the name slowly and with deliberate strokes to the keyboard. The name popped up. "Room 224, on the second floor."

The man leaned over the counter and glanced at the computer screen, verifying that she wasn't lying to him. Then, he turned and ran towards the elevator. Lisa turned to Cynthia.

"Call Chuck from security," she said quickly. "Tell him we have an armed man going to room 224."

Cynthia nodded wordlessly and picked up the phone, dialing frantically. Lisa pulled out her cell phone, dialing a number swiftly.

"Lisa?" said the deep voice on the other end. "There's people everywhere in the streets. What's going on?"

"I need you in here," Lisa said quickly. "There's a man with a gun!"

"Be right there," the voice on the other line growled, and a bare few seconds later, Basil burst in through the front door.

Basil was Jackson's idea, originally. He said that Lisa needed a bodyguard for while she was at work, and he decided that that bodyguard would be Basil; someone he had known for most of his life, apparently. ("Just in case anyone decides to try and copy my handiwork," he had said casually.) Basil was strong and friendly, though he didn't say much, and Lisa found herself enjoying his company, though she still detested the idea of having a bodyguard.

"Where is he?" Basil asked, his gun already held in his hands. Cynthia looked at the huge man in awe. Lisa didn't blame her; she too had stared openly when she had first met Basil. He was easily over six feet tall with arms like hammers and a surly face. Men like him were designed to kill.

"He went to the elevator," Lisa said, walking briskly alongside him as he moved in the direction of the stairs. Cynthia followed, still on the phone with Chuck.

"Did he hurt you?" Basil asked. Lisa shook her head. Basil nodded slowly. She knew he was thinking about how he hadn't burst into the building at the first sign of danger. They both knew well enough what Jackson would do to him if anything ever happened to Lisa on his watch. "Are you sure?"

"He just pointed the gun at my head and told me to tell him where some guy named Derrick Salisbury was staying."

"Where we heading?" Basil asked. Lisa started up the stairs quickly.

"Room 224," she answered. Basil nodded and held his gun ready, his finger already on the trigger. She saw him and glanced at him worriedly. "Don't get too trigger-happy," she warned him. "We don't want to kill anyone."

"Relax. I'll just shoot him in the leg," Basil said with a firm smile in her direction. She smiled back, though there was no humor in it.

"Um…hi," Cynthia said, looking at Lisa questioningly after she finally finished her phone conversation. "What's going on?"

"He's my bodyguard," Lisa answered with a shamefaced look in her eye.

"B…bodyguard?" Cynthia asked, looking extremely and utterly confused.

"Yeah," Lisa said, exhaling heavily. "Jackson thought it would be a good idea in case anyone tries to get me at work again."

"Has anyone tried to get you at work before that I don't know about? Because the last two incidences I remember, _he _got you on a plane and _he _kidnapped you at your apartment."

"Well last time they _would have_ gotten me here," Lisa pointed out. "If he hadn't saved me."

Cynthia was silent, though she looked a little bitter. It was clear that she didn't approve of the methods that Jackson used to get Lisa to safety. Most of the people that Lisa knew didn't approve. It was strange that Lisa was the only one who seemed to agree that it had been a good idea.

They reached the second floor before Cynthia could say anything, and the subject was soon forgotten as they heard the oily-familiar voice of Andrew Palmer yelling something unintelligible. Basil slowly eased open the door to the hallway so they could hear what he was saying.

"Dammit you goddamned fucking asshole! Open the door or I'll shoot the fucking lock out!"

"Okay, time to stop him," Lisa said to Basil. He nodded and handed Lisa a gun.

"Just in case," he said in reply to her questioning glance. Then he pushed open the door and stepped into the hallway. "Freeze!" he yelled in a very convincing cop voice. Andrew stopped yelling.

"Who the fuck you think you are?" Lisa and Cynthia could hear him shouting as they huddled in the stairwell. Lisa got her gun ready expertly, earning a few odd looks from Cynthia.

"I think you need to just calm down and drop your weapon," Basil shouted down the hallway.

"I think you need to let me do my fucking job," Andrew sneered. Lisa groaned.

"Great, more assassins," she said sarcastically. She picked up her cell phone angrily and dialed a number.

"Hey, hey, hey, Lisa!" was the answer she received from the man on the other end of the line.

"Vincent, who the fuck is Andrew Palmer?" Lisa hissed venomously into the phone.

"Whoa, Leese, baby, calm down. Andrew Palmer? I don't know. Harry boy, look up Andrew Palmer."

Lisa waited impatiently.

"Sir, just put down the weapon," Basil was saying in what was a pathetic attempt at a rational tone.

"Anything?" Lisa asked as Andrew shouted something that probably wasn't polite. Basil shouted back. Lisa moved down the stairs a little bit

"Yeah," Harrison's voice replied, replacing Vincent's. "It's an alias. Real name is Jeff Franklin. Our contact says he used to work for the Organization…pulled out five years ago and became a bounty hunter."

"You guys wouldn't happen to have anything to do with this, would you?" Lisa asked accusingly.

"If we knew what 'this' was, maybe we could tell you," Vincent responded with annoyance.

"Andrew Palmer is currently in my hotel, threatening one of my guests!" Lisa growled.

"Oh," came Vincent's quietly shocked voice. There was a long pause. "Hold on, let me patch you through to Jackson."

"No!" Lisa exclaimed, probably louder than she should have.

"Who the fuck is down there?" Andrew yelled suddenly, having apparently heard her.

"Shit! Shit!" Cynthia panicked, looking at Lisa with wide eyes.

"Leese?" came Jackson's concerned voice over the line. "What's going on?"

"There's man in here with a gun!" Lisa hissed in a dangerous tone. "I don't know why this is so hard for Vincent to deal with, but…"

"Vincent said something about Jeff Franklin," Jackson said in the cool and collected voice that he used when he was doing something either very illegal or very smart, or perhaps both. "Is he the one with the gun?"

"Yes," Lisa answered in a frustrated voice. "He's trying to get in to some guy named…"

"Tell Basil to shoot him," Jackson interrupted in a careful voice. "Tell him to kill him."

"Jackson, I can't have a _dead man_ in my hotel!"

"Better than that man living out on the streets somewhere," Jackson pointed out. Lisa sighed.

"Jackson," she said in a low, dangerous voice. "I think you need to send a team over here right now, especially considering that this probably has something to do with you guys anyway."

"It does _not_!" Jackson exclaimed indignantly, sounding a bit like a petulant child. "This man is in no way affiliated with us!"

"Jackson, I need _help_!" Lisa all but screamed into the phone. There was a long silence, and then Lisa heard him moving about.

"I'm on my way," he said in a short voice, and then the line went dead. Lisa almost screamed in frustration, but instead moved over to the doorway, peeking her head out down the hallway.

Andrew and Basil were standing face-to-face, pointing their weapons at each other with a deadly calm. Andrew's mean face had broken into a heavy sweat, and he looked around nervously as if not quite sure how to handle the situation.

"Sir," said Lisa timidly, ready to duck back behind the door if Andrew got a little excited with the trigger. Fortunately, he just glanced over at her with mild annoyance flickering over her features. "Jeffery?"

Andrew/Jeffery froze and stared at her for a moment.

"What the fuck did you just say?" he asked.

"I said Jeffery," Lisa said with growing confidence. "That's your name, isn't it?"

"How the fuck did you know that?" asked the very confused Jeffery Franklin, alias Andrew Palmer.

"I know a lot of things," Lisa replied, making sure to keep a calm face, just as Jackson had taught her. "Bounty hunter. Scum of the earth, I've heard from a good friend of mine. Maybe you've heard of him. Jackson Rippner."

"Rippner?" Jeffery asked, and Lisa could have sworn that his face paled a few shades.

"Rippner," Lisa said with the utmost calm, a small smirk working its way across her face. "I take it you know him, then."

"Worked for the Organization when I was there," Jeffery said, feigning indifference. "But then, so did a lot of people. He's no one special."

"Oh, he's someone special," Basil said, chuckling slightly. "He's the best."

"How else would he have known to put us here today?" Lisa asked. "He has it out for you, Franklin. And when Jackson Rippner has it out for you, there's no escape."

"He knew you were coming," Basil said. "He set you up. There isn't even anyone behind that door."

Lisa nodded smugly. She definitely wasn't even slightly sure if that was the truth or not, but considering the man hadn't answered Jeffery yet, there was a good chance it was right. She was just glad that Basil had the sense to follow along.

Jeffery looked from Lisa to Basil, then back.

"You're lying!" he yelled angrily, and then he turned and he shot at the door.

The next minute was so filled with chaos that Lisa wasn't even sure what had happened until it was already over. As soon as the bullet penetrated the lock, there was a loud bang, and suddenly the hallway was filled with roaring flames. Lisa and Basil were both thrown back by the force of the explosion. Basil managed to get at least thirty feet down the hallway, and Lisa's head was slammed into the doorjamb painfully. Cynthia pulled her away from the roaring flames, into the stairwell, and started screaming.

Doors everywhere up and down the hall began opening, and the hotel visitors who had cowered in their rooms when the fighting had been going on streamed out. Security finally decided to make an appearance, and they helped the screaming citizens down the stairs past Lisa and Cynthia, who huddled in a corner.

Once the stars stopped dancing in front of Lisa's vision, she staggered to her feet and stumbled out into the hallway. Jeffery's burning figure could be seen writhing on the ground, and his screams echoed throughout the hallway. Lisa turned away, looking sickened, but Cynthia's large innocent eyes remained focused on the man in his last throes of death.

"Oh my God," she whispered, looking like she was about to vomit. "Oh my God."

"Don't watch," Lisa said, pulling Cynthia down the hallway. The fire had mostly died down, except for the wall in front of room 224, but the heavy black smoke still filled the hall. Basil was just getting to his feet painfully. "You okay?" Lisa asked him, sounding almost embarrassed.

"Yeah," Basil answered, rubbing a hand over his head and wincing. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Lisa replied, breathing out slowly. She shook her head and then turned to Cynthia. "You?"

"Fine," Cynthia said, exhaling heavily and glancing back at Jeffery once before facing Lisa again and wincing.

"Let's get out of here," Lisa said, turning and walking back towards the staircase.

* * *

Roughly five minutes later, Lisa was sitting in the front lobby having the injury on the back of her head examined while Cynthia sat beside her on the bench, looking around with wide terrified eyes. Suddenly, the doors burst open, and Jackson strode into the lobby followed by several of his men. Lisa waved the paramedics off after reassuring them that she didn't feel any dizziness of any kind and was all right.

Once Jackson reached her, he glanced over her quickly, looking for obvious injury. Then, he looked a little closer; squinting almost, as if to focus on something specific on Lisa's face.

"You okay?" he asked her.

"I'm fine," Lisa said with a heavy, exhaling sigh. "What was that all about?"

"Room 224 was being lent out to Derrick Salisbury, correct?" Jackson asked. Lisa nodded slowly.  
"Yeah," she said. "And this Jeff guy was trying to kill him."

"Derrick Salisbury is the head of some small-time organized crime ring. Nothing big, nothing threatening, but obviously someone wanted him out of the way. Jeffery Franklin is a low-scale bounty hunter; he works outside all the big circles because they remember him and he doesn't want them going after him. Obviously, someone tipped off Salisbury and he left a nice nasty surprise for whoever was going to kill him."

"But why'd you tell me to tell Basil to kill him?" Lisa asked, finally standing up. Jackson put a hand out to steady her in case she fell, but she was fine.

"We were never great friends," Jackson said simply, giving her a meaningful look.

"Jackson! Next time you have personal business, take care of it yourself! Preferably outside of my hotel! We've been over this before!"

"I know, Leese," Jackson said quietly, the tone of his voice showing clearly that he thought she was being unreasonable. "But Franklin's been underground for a while now, and I knew this was the one chance that we were going to have for a while. And it turned out all right in the end, didn't it? You didn't even have to kill anyone."

He smirked at her, and she glared in return, pulling her arm out of his grasp.

"Jackson, I don't care how elusive that man was; that doesn't mean you can tell me to kill him just because you weren't fond of him."

"It doesn't?" Jackson asked. Lisa sighed and shook her head at him, then walked over to the policeman who was standing over by the front desk, chatting with Victoria, the other front desk girl. Jackson sat down on the bench beside Cynthia.

"Aren't you afraid they're going to, like, notice you or something?" Cynthia asked with a small frown.

"As if they'd know who they were looking at," Jackson replied contemptuously, snorting slightly. Cynthia sighed, and Jackson could tell that there was nothing in the world she'd enjoy more than turning Jackson in to the police at that very moment. Jackson wondered what it was that kept her from doing it. It could have been any number of things. It could have been that Lisa would have been terribly upset, and she didn't want that. It could have been that Cynthia was afraid that Jackson would come after her if she turned him in, though he knew that Lisa would never allow it. It was probably more something like she knew it wouldn't do any good because she knew Jackson would be able to get out of any harrowing situation he came across. At least, that was what Jackson liked to think.

He was just settling back in the seat with a smug smile on his face when his cell phone rang. He picked it up, holding it against his ear casually.

"Hello?" he said brightly.

"Where is my daughter? Is she okay?"

"Mr.…Reisert?" Jackson asked, puzzled. "How did you get my number?"

"Where's Lisa?" Joe roared in response.

"She's right here!" Jackson shot back. "Mr. Reisert, what's wrong?"

"I'm watching on the news," Joe replied, sounding slightly less hysterical. "They said a man held a hotel clerk hostage."

"Lisa's fine," Jackson said vaguely. "I'm sure she'll explain everything to you in good time, but for now, all you need to know is that she's completely fine."

"All I need to know?" Joe sputtered angrily. "Put her on the phone!"

"She's talking to some policemen right now, Mr. Reisert," Jackson said calmly. "Please just…how did you get this number?"

"Lisa gave it to me in case of emergency," Joe replied, as if it was terribly hard for him to answer the question. Jackson sent an unsubtle glare in Lisa's direction. "I'd say this is something of an emergency, wouldn't you?"

"Not really," Jackson responded flippantly. "Considering she's standing three feet away. Really, Mr. Reisert, I'll have her call you later."

"You'd better, boy," Joe said in a very uncharacteristically dangerous tone. Jackson pretended he didn't hear and hung up the phone, shaking his head as if trying to shake the unpleasant memories of that phone call out.

Getting to his feet, Jackson watched Lisa as she talked in an animated way to the policeman, gesturing her hands like she always did when she was angry. Of course, her anger would never show on her face; but it was clear in the way she gestured her hands that she was secretly fantasizing about wringing the man's neck. Jackson wondered if the man had actually done something to validly piss her off, or if she was just taking her frustrations out on him.

After a few moments, Lisa finally sighed, and Jackson could hear her say 'thank you!' in an exasperated voice. Turning back towards them, she saw Jackson watching her, and she stopped self-consciously.

"Next time you go about giving out my number, Leese, please don't make it to your father," Jackson said to break the silence, giving her an exasperated look. She tried to keep a straight face, though the corners of her mouth twitched up in a small smile.

"Sorry," she muttered. "I told him to only call you if it was a real emergency."

"He just called me now," Jackson said, rolling his eyes. This time, Lisa didn't bother to hold back the small laugh.

"Well, I guess this would qualify," she said. "All right. I'll call him soon enough. Thanks, Jackson."

"No problem," Jackson said, rolling his eyes and feeling very much like a personal secretary. "You want me to drive you home?"

"Oh, I'm not going home," Lisa said, as if the very idea were ludicrous. "I have so much stuff to do here."

"Leese, I'm sure you'll survive if you take the rest of the day off. Really, just come with me."

"There's no way, Jackson," Lisa said stubbornly. "I'll go home when I need to."

Jackson sighed, trying to glare her into submission, but she just stared right back, a small smirk on her features. She knew that he could glare all he wanted, but he wasn't going to actually get her out of work. They had had several arguments like it before, and she hadn't lost one.

"Call me if you need anything," he said seriously. She just smiled at him and turned and walked back towards Cynthia. Jackson nodded to his men, and they walked out of the doors. Lisa watched him go with a small smile on her face, and then she turned back to her job.

* * *

Jackson sat in his car, watching his men all pull away from the curb in their various colors and types of cars. Finally, when they were all gone, he pulled out his cell phone.

"She okay?" Vincent asked, sounding worried.

"She's fine," Jackson said. "A little shaken up, but nothing as bad as what she's been through before." Vincent snorted slightly.

"No shit," he muttered. "Okay, so what do you need?"

"I need you to find out who hired Jeffery Franklin to kill Derrick Salisbury," Jackson said. "It seems to be just an isolated incident, but I want to make sure."

"Yeah, we don't wanna get hit like last time," Vincent agreed. "Okay. How do you propose we go about doing that?"

"Go to his apartment. Tear the fucking place apart and find something, anything. Bring Harrison and hack into his computers."

"Okay," Vincent said. "I'll get a team together and head over right away. You really think there's something to this?"

"We learned the hard way; better safe than sorry," Jackson reminded Vincent. He could practically see the blonde man nodding his head in agreement.

"Yeah," he said sullenly. "Okay, we're heading out. See you later."

"Yeah," Jackson said. He hung up the phone, then sat there for a few moments, staring at the Lux Atlantic quietly. Finally, he sighed and started the car, pulling out from the curb and leaving the chaos of the morning behind him.


	2. I Just Wanna Melt With You

Here's the next chapter!

I have nothing really interesting to tell you today, except that since 30 Seconds to Mars added new concert dates, I may be going to see them in May :D

But yeah, that's really all there is to say. Except that I really like the conversation between Harrison and Vincent at the end. It never fails to amuse me.

Anyway, thanks sooooo much to everyone who reviewed!

Please review again!

**Lorelle: **hahaha 6 times! Yay! I'm glad you liked it that much! And yeah, I just kinda flew right into the action with this one, hahaha. I'm hoping to involve Cynthia more in this story than the last one. Maybe even hook her up with some love time! Whoo hoo! Haha, thanks for reviewing!

**Joelle: **hehe, yep, there's a lot of mystery already, and there'll be even more in chapters to come! I'm not sure how long it will be exactly…I have a general idea of where it's going, but nothing's certain yet. I just kind of think stuff up as I type and let it go from there. Basically, my fingers do all the work. Jackson and Lisa haven't officially gotten together yet; they kind of returned to being friends after the whole thing ended. But don't you worry, there _is _that undeniable spark between them ;) Thanks for reviewing!

* * *

**Chapter 2** – I Just Wanna Melt With You

If you heard the voices in my head  
Would you really listen?  
If you saw the hole that's in my heart  
Would you wanna fill it up?  
If I was hiding in the dark  
Would you wanna rescue me?  
Kiss me come on…

**I just wanna melt with you**  
Don't let me burn alone tonight  
There's nothing I won't do for you  
It's you or die  
Do it now  
I hold you down  
I Melt with you

If I told you once upon a time  
Would you wanna touch me?  
If I asked you about tomorrow  
Would you just walk away?  
If I told you I can't eat or sleep  
Would you wanna chill me out?  
Kiss me come on

**I just wanna melt with you  
**Don't let me burn alone tonight  
There's nothing I won't do for you  
It's you or die  
Do it now  
I hold you down  
I Melt with you

I just wanna melt with your arms around me  
Is it to much to ask for?  
I just want it all, I just want it all  
I can't stand it anymore

Kiss me come on

**I just wanna melt with you  
**Don't let me burn alone tonight  
There's nothing I won't do for you  
It's you or die  
Do it now  
Hold you down  
I Melt with you

Melt  
Gone 'Til November

* * *

Lisa gently pushed her apartment door open, balancing three bags of groceries and her purse in extremely awkward positions on her body. Once she got the door open, she grabbed at her keys and then slammed the door behind her in one motion, somehow managing not to drop anything. She did a small, uncharacteristic dance of victory, though she realized that she looked like a complete fool, and tossed her keys into the glass jar beside the door where she always kept them, and then flicked on the kitchen light.

It was completely dark in the rooms surrounding the kitchen, and Lisa felt slightly uneasy. She put her groceries on the kitchen table quickly, and then walked over to the light switch that would turn on the lamp in the living room. She pushed the switch into the upward position and saw that her bedroom door was open a crack.

At first, that didn't surprise her. Then she remembered that while leaving for work that morning, she had hit her hip on the door on her way out of the bedroom, and had slammed it in frustration. Her eyes widened as she realized what that meant, and she slowly made her way over to her couch, not making any noise. Reaching underneath it, her fingers grasped her hockey stick firmly, and she slowly got to her feet, kicking off her shoes so as to eliminate any sound.

Silently, she crept towards her bedroom, her heart pounding in her ears. She knew she was quite possibly overreacting and just remembering the sequence of events from that morning wrong, but she still felt a thrill of fear creeping up her spine. Pausing beside the door, she listened for any noise, but couldn't hear anything. She bit her lip hesitantly, glancing over at her purse, which was sitting on the counter a few feet away. Her cell phone was sticking out the top. She could easily run to it and call Jackson, but as usual, something in her wouldn't let her. She wasn't really sure _why_ she didn't want to do it, but some sort of territorial protectiveness had come over her. She had to rid her home of whatever intruder was in it.

Sliding through the open door silently, she glanced around the bedroom, which thankfully was dimly lit by the glowing clock radio on her bedside table. There was no one in immediate sight, but Lisa noticed that the door to the bathroom was closed, and a small slit of light was showing through. Someone was in there.

She slinked towards the bathroom, barely breathing. Pressing her ear against the door, she let out a harsh breath when she heard some movement. It was a very small amount of movement, but it was movement all the same. She slowly reached her hand down and wrapped her fingers around the doorknob, turning it ever so slowly. Somehow, she managed to keep it from making any noise, and she braced herself before shoving it open roughly, the hockey stick ready in her hands.

"Fuck, Leese!" Jackson yelled, jumping back in surprise from the mirror. Lisa dropped the hockey stick in her surprise, her heart beating rapidly.

"What are you _doing_?" she shouted at him, all the fear going out of her at once and turning into anger. His shirt was crumpled on the floor, and his side was covered in blood. "What happened to you?"

"I was attacked," Jackson said with annoyance, hissing in pain as he dabbed some peroxide on his wound.

"Obviously," Lisa growled, wincing as she saw the size of his injury. "By who?"

"I'm not sure," Jackson replied absently. "I was looking for Derrick Salisbury. I think it was one of his henchmen."

"Why were you looking for him?" Lisa asked, taking the peroxide and the cotton from him and applying it herself.

"I wanted to make sure that there wasn't anything to worry about," Jackson said, trying to sound innocent.

"You don't have any bad blood with this guy too, do you?" Lisa asked, exasperated.

"No!" Jackson exclaimed, hissing in pain once again. "I'd appreciate it if you stopped with the questions, Leese."

"Fine," Lisa said with a sneer. "Then I'll start with the _comments_. Going looking for a crime boss, no matter how small, _alone_, is pretty much the most idiotic thing I think you've done. Is _that_ better?"

"Not especially," Jackson growled. "I didn't want to make a big deal out of it, and I thought I might be able to get in without anyone noticing."

"Looks like you overestimated your abilities _once again_," Lisa said viciously, rolling her eyes. She looked down at the gash. "You're going to need stitches."

"I'll worry about that later," Jackson said, slapping a bandage on the open wound, which made Lisa flinch and shudder slightly at the thought of the pain he was going to feel later when he tried to pull the bandage off. Though, she knew Jackson well enough to know that pain was nothing to worry about as far as he was concerned.

"Why didn't you go back to the complex?" Lisa asked.

"This was closer," Jackson replied stonily. "And I decided I'd come pay you a little visit."

"How did you get in?" Lisa asked pointedly. Jackson held up a spare key and dangled it in front of Lisa's face.

"An extra precaution I knew would come in handy."

"Great," Lisa muttered, sighing. She tried to take the key, but Jackson pulled it back with a playful smile.

"I haven't taken the liberty of using it so far," he reminded her. "It's just for emergencies, like this one."

Lisa sighed.

"Fine," she said, resigned. "But if I _ever _wake up in the middle of the night and find you in my kitchen eating my food, I _will _change the locks."

"And I'll make a new key," Jackson said, grinning. He took the peroxide from Lisa's hands and started to methodically clean, putting everything back where it was supposed to be. Lisa waited for him to finish, and watched him worriedly. He had already fixed several scrapes on his face, as well as a long gash on his arm, and a large purple bruise was forming on his forehead.

"I hope the other guy looks much worse, or I'd be quite disappointed," she said wryly.

"Oh, I'd say he's a little worse off," Jackson said with a familiar grin that never failed to remind Lisa of a shark. Lisa learned early on in her twisted friendship with Jackson that she should never ask him what exactly what he meant when he said stuff like that. She was bound to get an answer that was grossly laden with details that she would rather live her life without knowing.

"Good," she muttered instead, turning and walking out into her bedroom, and then out into her living room. She remembered the groceries and headed over to them, starting to put the items in her refrigerator.

"So what are we having?" Jackson asked with a smile, walking out of the bedroom. Lisa looked at him incredulously, but she couldn't help but smile.

"You break into my house, use my medical supplies, and you expect me to feed you?" she asked, giving him a pointed look.

"Fine, I'll just have to take you out to dinner, then," Jackson replied smoothly, ever the sweet-talker.

"Will you?" Lisa asked dryly, giving him another look. "Really."

"Really," Jackson answered, grinning at her. "Come on, my treat. Go get changed into something comfortable. Nothing classy."

Lisa sighed and walked into her bedroom, pretending to be reluctant. Inwardly, however, her smile was lighting up the room. She had often gone out to eat with Jackson, and sometimes Jackson had gotten tipsy enough that he had actually tried to kiss her. She never let him when he was drunk, however, though honestly she wanted nothing more. She wanted him to be sober at least when he kissed her to avoid any awkwardness.

They hadn't actually kissed since the time she was leaving Jimmy's complex after the Andropov incident. Though it had seemed at the time that they were going to start something new and real and exciting, they had instead settled into a friendship that was so much more innocent than what Lisa wanted. She wanted the excitement that she had felt when he had kissed her that time, but he seemed to be content just being 'friends'.

Lisa sighed as she began to get dressed. She hated the feeling of knowing that he looked at her as a friend, while she looked at him as so much more. She hated knowing that while he meant so much to her, she probably meant very little. Lisa pulled on jeans and regarded herself in the mirror. Though she had never thought she was _pretty_ (women never do), she certainly didn't think she was _so _ugly that Jackson wouldn't consider being more than friends because of it. At least, she didn't think so.

She bit her lip slightly and pulled on a white tank top with a pretty tropical design on the front. She threw a red sweatshirt over it and zippered it up slightly, then threw on sneakers, refusing to think anymore about the subject.

She walked into her bathroom and fixed her makeup and brushed her hair out. Though she knew she was taking longer than she really needed to, she wanted to look her best and she knew that Jackson wouldn't object to her taking as long as she wanted. He had gotten used to the fact that 'getting ready fast' for her meant that she took at least fifteen minutes; quite possibly more.

Once she was done, she looked at herself in the mirror once more, and then walked out into the living room.

Jackson didn't immediately see her when she emerged. He was relaxing on the couch, watching TV and flipping through the channels with a bored expression. He had somehow managed to get changed, though Lisa had no idea where he had gotten the clothes, and he was wearing jeans and a button-down black shirt, which was open to reveal a spotless white beater beneath. Though for normal people, this would have been at least moderately fancy, for Jackson it was extremely casual.

Lisa opened her mouth to get his attention, but then noticed how _normal _he looked. He looked like he was just an average man, watching football, waiting for his wife to finish cooking dinner. She had never thought he was capable of looking normal, especially not in _her _eyes, but there he was.

"Where'd you get the clothes?" she asked him to get his attention, slightly shaken by the normalcy of that moment.

"A good magician never gives away his secrets," Jackson said with a grin. Lisa smiled slightly and rolled her eyes. Jackson turned off the T.V and got to his feet. "You look lovely, Leese."

"Thanks," Lisa replied, rolling her eyes. Jackson smiled at her.

"I'm serious," he said. "You look really nice."

Lisa gave him a small smile, but the look on his face was one of complete seriousness. He looked at her intensely like that for a few more moments before finally smiling at her.

"Let's go," Lisa said, trying her best to pretend that that moment hadn't happened. She wasn't exactly sure _what _Jackson had been doing, or why he had been so serious, but she knew that the feeling of being looked at like that was not a feeling that she enjoyed very much.

"Where to, tonight?" Jackson asked, handing Lisa her purse. She took it and thanked him.

"Well, we had Chinese last time," she said thoughtfully. "Maybe…Italian?"

"Ah, lasagna," Jackson said, nodding as he pondered. "I think that sounds like a plan."

"You think?" Lisa asked.

"I do indeed," Jackson said with a smile. Lisa smiled as well and they walked out the door.

"You know," Lisa said quietly, but then she stopped, embarrassed.  
"I know what?" Jackson asked, looking at her curiously.

"I was just thinking," Lisa said, smiling up at him. "It feels like…I don't know, like none of that bad stuff ever happened. It feels like you were just that nice guy from the airport who bought me a Baybreeze and saved me a seat at the TexMex. Right now, I mean. Usually, you're still the creepy guy who tried to kill my father, but _right now_…" she trailed off and smiled up at him as they walked out into the street. "I don't know, right now I think I can forget that."

"Creepy?" Jackson asked, sounding offended and laughing slightly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Really? Creepy? I didn't think I was that creepy."

"You can be pretty creepy," Lisa said, giving him a look. "I don't want to cite any examples or anything and embarrass you in public, but…"

"Okay, okay, yeah, I can be a little creepy," Jackson admitted reluctantly. "Sometimes very creepy, even…but not to _you_."

"Kidnapping me isn't creepy?" Lisa asked, arching an eyebrow in an unconscious imitation of Jackson himself.

"That was almost six months ago!" Jackson said indignantly.

"Six months really isn't all that long," Lisa said thoughtfully. Jackson looked up at the buildings in front of them thinking.

"It seems like a lot longer than six months," he said after a while.

"It does," Lisa said, sighing slightly.

"It seems sometimes like I'm a hell of a lot older than I am," Jackson said, his fun and light mood subdued a little bit. "After everything…"

"Yeah," Lisa said quickly, cutting him off before he could get on the subject of his rough childhood. "Let's not talk about the bad stuff, okay? Let's talk about…I don't know…anything else."

"Okay," Jackson said, grinning at her slightly. "What do _you _want to talk about?"

"Well, let's talk about Vincent and Scarlett," Lisa said, her face lighting up. Jackson groaned, throwing his head back and looking at the stars.

"You little gossip hound," he said in a chiding voice.

"I just want to know what's going on in Vincent's end!" Lisa exclaimed innocently. "Scarlett's constantly worried that he doesn't love her and that he's just trying to make this into one of his casual relationships." Her voice suddenly grew serious. "She really loves him, you know."

"I know," Jackson said sadly. "You never heard the whole story of their relationship, did you?"

"No," Lisa said. "I wanted to wait for a while before I asked Scarlett what was up. I didn't want her to have to go into all the painful details while they're still fresh."

"It's pretty painful," Jackson said with a humorless snort. "They loved each other more than I think I ever saw two people love each other. I used to catch Jimmy looking at them with that faraway look in his eye, like he was thinking about Amora. Which, of course, I'm sure he was. But…anyway, they were the most romantic couple. Vincent would always go out of his way to do these stupid things to make her smile, and she would make him whatever food he wanted, since he was a terrible cook, even though she _hated _cooking." Jackson sighed and ran a hand through his hair; obviously the memories, though good, were a little painful. "One day…I don't even know what happened, but something snapped in Vincent. He got scared. He started thinking that he was hurting Scarlett; that he wasn't good enough. I don't know why…he said later that when a woman depends on a man so fiercely, he starts to feel the pressure of living up to her expectations all the time. Vincent just thought that he didn't live up to those expectations. So he went and found some blonde bimbo and he slept with her one night to drown his sorrows. Only, Scarlett found out. For around a day she refused to speak to him, and then she decided that she had had enough, and she forgave him. She told him that as long as he promised that he would never do it again, she would take him back. And Vincent, of course, was completely in love, so he agreed. Only he never forgave himself, so for some reason, logic told him to do it again. So he did it again and again and again, and every time Scarlett found out and would take him back. Pretty soon they were both so destroyed that they couldn't have possibly gone on any longer without one of them killing themselves, so Scarlett called it off. You could tell, though, that she regretted it always."

"What about Vincent?" Scarlett asked. "He didn't seem too upset about it when I met him."

"They both got it in their heads that the other was happy without them," Jackson said quietly. "They both thought that if they pretended to be happy, then the other one wouldn't have to worry about them being sad. So they both pretended that they were happy with the way things were going, and they managed to maintain a normal friendship, though they barely ever spoke. Neither of them could take too much of each other without breaking down. Believe me, seeing that man cry is the sorriest sight you're ever going to see."

Scarlett smiled slightly and looked up at the starry night sky as they rounded the corner once again, drawing closer to their destination.

"I feel bad for them," she said quietly. "For all of them. I was reading Jimmy's book the other day. You know, his autobiography that he had in that bookshelf in your room…"

"So it was _you _who took it," Jackson said, smiling playfully at her. "I was looking for that!"

"Yeah, I borrowed it for a couple of days," Scarlett said. "But I was reading it, and he had stuff in there about him and Amora, of course, but then also about Vincent and Scarlett, and Felicia and Bennie, and…your parents."

She looked down at the ground immediately after she had mentioned it, looking embarrassed. Jackson shuffled his feet slightly on the ground.

"I never read that," he said quietly. "I've been meaning to for a while now, but…I don't know."

"You should," Lisa said with a small smile. "He really loved you, Jackson."

"Yeah," Jackson said, trying to smile and ending up looking pained more than anything else. "I know."

Lisa decided that a change of subject was in order.

"What about Harrison?" she asked. "Has he found anyone yet? I haven't talked to him in a while."

"He's still sleeping with Celia," Jackson said, rolling his eyes. Lisa made a gagging noise. "Listen to me! I'm talking like you!"

"There's nothing wrong with that," Lisa said, chuckling as they made another turn and arrived at the restaurant. Jackson lead her in, and they stood waiting for the hostess to seat them.

Once they were seated and had ordered everything, Lisa settled comfortably into her chair, feeling a lot more at ease. Though at first, she had been slightly nervous about spending alone time with Jackson, she was actually feeling pretty relaxed.

"So how are things with you?" Jackson asked. "How did the rest of the day go?"

"Oh, you know," Lisa said, shrugging. "The usual chaos when something in the hotel blows up. Not that that's, you know, common or anything."

Jackson smiled at Lisa and took a sip of his water.

"I told you you should have gone home," he said in a slightly singsong voice.

"Trust me; the place would have been in a shambles if I had left," Lisa said, chuckling slightly. "It was definitely a sight to witness. People were panicking everywhere."

"Which is to be expected," Jackson pointed out. "I have to say, from what Basil told me, you appear to have done a very good job at handing yourself."

"I was taught by the best," Lisa pointed out, smiling at him. He smiled back, his eyes lighting up only slightly in the way they did when he was happy about something. She looked away, slightly embarrassed that she knew that.

"You scared me, you know," Jackson said after a pause. Lisa looked at him with surprise.

"What?" she asked.

"You scared me," Jackson answered unabashedly. "When you were on the phone."

"I'm sorry," Lisa said with a small smile. "I was slightly frightened myself."

"I'm just glad you're okay," Jackson said with a small smile for her, looking at her in a way that he had never looked at her before.

"I'm glad I'm okay too," Lisa said, not really knowing what else there was to say to that.

Fortunately, she didn't have to say anything else, because the food arrived right then. After thanking the waitress in his best suck-up voice, Jackson remarked that she had very big teeth.

"Jackson," Lisa hissed warningly.

"I'm just pointing it out," Jackson whispered in reply, leaning forward slightly. "Did you see them?"

"Yes, I saw them," Lisa said, leaning forward as well. "But that doesn't mean you can talk about her like that!"

"Why not?" Jackson asked flippantly.

"Jackson," Lisa said warningly. Jackson sighed and settled back, pretending to be offended.

"Fine, fine," he said. "I understand."

Lisa shook her head and started eating her lasagna.

* * *

Vincent and Harrison walked back into the complex around nine o'clock in the evening after searching Franklin's apartment for hours with no results.

"I'll check the disks, though I doubt there's anything," Harrison said tiredly, disappearing down the hallway to where his computer lab was stationed. Vincent walked into the center, which was nearly empty. He had put more restrictions on the parties, limiting them to weekends so the place could become more professional. So far it had worked, and though people had complained about it at first, they eventually agreed that it was a good idea to not have everyone hung over every day.

"Vincent!" called out a voice. Vincent turned and saw Danielle Samuels, one of the secretaries, making her way towards him.

"What?" he asked.

"We just received a phone call from a woman who says that she needs to speak with you. She says it's urgent."

"Is she still on the line?" Vincent asked.

"Yes," Danielle said. "She didn't give us a name, and refused to give it to anyone but you."

"Okay," Vincent said, walking towards the computer lab. "Patch it over to line three on phone six. I'll have Vincent record the call."

Danielle nodded and hurried away to do her job. Vincent walked as quickly as he could, and then pushed open the door to the computer lab. Harrison looked up when he came in, looking surprised.

"What do you need?" he asked, noticing that Vincent looked harried.

"Some woman on the phone refuses to speak to anyone but me," Vincent said, rolling his eyes. "I thought I'd take it in here, just in case she had anything to do with today…or, you know, in case she's totally unrelated and is just a complete nutcase."

"You want me to record it?" Harrison asked.

"That would be the point of taking it in here," Vincent said with a smirk. Phone six beeped. Harrison quickly typed in a few numbers on the screen, fiddled around with something, then nodded.

"All right," he said. "Recording."

Vincent picked up the phone.

"Hello, this is Vincent Gavery," he said in his most serious voice (though admittedly, it wasn't all that easy for him to do.) "Who is this?"

"An old friend," said the smooth voice on the other end of the line. Harrison, who was listening with headphones, arched an eyebrow and rolled his eyes. Vincent smirked. Clichés were so horrible in their line of business.

"Who, exactly?" Vincent asked in a tone that strictly stated that he wanted no nonsense.

"Oh, just rest assured that when you see my face, you'll remember me," chuckled the voice. Vincent was getting tired of the seductive tone.

"Listen, lady, I really don't have time for this. I have a lot of stuff to do, so just tell me what you want."

"I _want _a job," the lady said, scoffing.

"I can't just give you a job," Vincent said, rolling his eyes. "How did you get this number, anyway?"

"I got it from Ralph Bennett," the voice replied. "You can ask him about me. I'll be in tomorrow morning."

The line went dead. Vincent sighed and put down the receiver.

"Do you have any idea who that might be?" Harrison asked.

"Yeah," Vincent said. "And if I'm right, I ain't gonna like it."

"Who do you think it was?" Harrison asked, immediately interested.

"I'm about ninety percent positive that it's a woman named Jaqueline Regan. She was one of Jimmy's orphans, too, but they never got along. She used to sleep around with the other orphans for money, which Jimmy couldn't stand. She also had a problem with authority; would never listen to a word Jimmy said. It used to piss him off so much. She just did what she wanted when she wanted. Finally, he got tired of her and just kicked her out. First and only time that ever happened."

"Don't you think that's a little harsh?" Harrison asked, wincing slightly. "I mean, kicking her out for _that_?"

"Trust me, if it _is _her, you'll find out why he kicked her out so fast it'll make your head spin. She's the most stuck-up bitch I've ever met in my life; likes to put herself on a pedestal above others because she knows she sucks at this kinda life. She's just not cut for it. All she can do is seduce, and she doesn't even do that very well."

Harrison laughed slightly.

"You really don't like her, do you?" he asked.

"Not at all," Vincent said. "Jackson was the only one who could ever stand her."

"Really?" Harrison asked, surprised. "Jackson strikes me as the type who would hate someone like that."

"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" Vincent agreed. "But no, they dated for a long time. In fact, when he left for the Organization, they were still dating."

"Why'd they break up?" Harrison asked.

"I'll be damned if I know," Vincent said with a snort. "Up until three months ago, I hadn't heard from the bastard in ten years; was convinced that he had turned out just like her. You know, convincing himself that he was too good for us. I always thought they'd gone off and gotten themselves married or something. It wasn't until he showed up at our door here with Lisa that I realized they weren't together anymore."

"Have you asked him about it?" Harrison asked. Vincent shook his head.

"I asked him where she was, once I got him away from Lisa for a few seconds that first day. I took him to get him bandaged up, and I just asked him, figured it'd be better to ask him straight up. He just shook his head and said he didn't know where she was and didn't want to talk about. The way I look at it, he probably just got sick of dealing with her bullshit all the time. From what I understand, the relationship was pretty much all physical anyway. He probably realized that he's a good-looking guy, and can get way better sex for so much less shit. I mean, hell, she wasn't even that good!"

"You had sex with her?" Harrison asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Hell yes I did," Vincent said, snorting. "Just because she's a bitch, it doesn't mean I won't do her."

Harrison gave him an incredulous look.

"I thought you were the most romantic man I'd ever meet," he said. "Your words, not mine, remember."

"I am," Vincent said, grinning. "But the me before and after Scarlett was a little bit of a devil."

"I see," Harrison said, shaking his head. "But did you do anything with her while she and Jackson were dating."

"No!" Vincent exclaimed, offended. "What kind of friend do you take me for? I fucked her before they started going out. She had the hots for me, like _big time_. But after that one time I was just completely turned off by her. Like the fact that I had to _pay _for that shit just depresses me still, to this day."

Harrison shook his head and laughed.

"Man, you are so messed the fuck up," he chuckled. He suddenly grew serious. "Do you think he loved her?"

Vincent thought about that for a long moment, his eyes slightly closed. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

"Jackson was, and still is, my best friend," he said. "So when I say this, you know I'm saying this while I still love the man with all of my heart. But, honestly, I never saw anything in Jackson that appeared to be capable of loving."

"Everyone can love," Harrison pointed out.

"Yeah, but up until three months ago, I didn't think _he _could," Vincent said. "But before that, there was never anyone he _could _love."

* * *

Lisa and Jackson walked back down the street to Lisa's apartment, smiles of content on their faces.

"Okay," Jackson admitted. "I'll say the lasagna was good, but my mother's was still better."

"I don't doubt that," Lisa said. "But that stuff was _heavenly_."

Jackson laughed and shoved his hands into his pockets again, looking up at the sky.

"You know, it's really depressing how you can't see the stars here," he said decisively. "I mean, look at this. All the lights…"

He trailed off and shook his head, and Lisa looked at him with a smile, slightly surprised.

"I never would have taken you for a nature lover," she said teasingly.

"Oh, I'm not, trust me," Jackson said, shuddering slightly. "I absolutely cannot _stand_ insects of any form. I just like the stars."

"I do too," Lisa said thoughtfully. Jackson smiled at her.

"Bet you haven't seem them in a while," he remarked.

"You'd bet correctly," Lisa said. "Not naturally, anyway. The last time was at my grandmother's funeral."

The pair fell into a thoughtful silence, each of them reflecting how a world of differences had occurred after that funeral. It seemed much longer than six months, yet at the same time it felt like so much less of a time. Neither of them had any idea how to describe the feeling.

"Are you happy?" Jackson asked suddenly, turning to her. She gave him a confused look. "I mean, at this very moment…are you happy?"

"Yeah, I guess…why?" Lisa asked.

"I don't know," Jackson said. "Good."

Lisa looked at him oddly.

"What's this about?" she asked him. "Something bad's going to happen, isn't it?"

Jackson sighed. He really didn't want to tell Lisa anything, but he knew she was going to beg to know and was going to ask so many questions that he was likely to break down and cry before it was done.

"I'm not sure yet," he said instead of hiding it from her. "I just believe that there's something deeper to this whole thing than we think there is."

"The thing with Derrick Salisbury, you mean?" Lisa asked with confusion. "I thought this was an isolated incident."

"I don't think so anymore," Jackson said with a sigh. "Unfortunately, I think there's something bigger here."

"Like what?" Lisa asked. Jackson shrugged.

"I don't know," he said with a sigh. "I really don't know. Don't worry about it just yet. I'll send Basil to stake out your apartment…"

"No, that's okay," Lisa said quickly. "Don't make him do that. He does enough for me."

"He's being _paid_, Leese," Jackson pointed out. "He doesn't care if he has to clean up your vomit after you drank too much; he just wants the money."

"He's a good guy and he deserves the rest," Lisa said forcefully, glaring at Jackson.

"Are you sure you feel safe?" Jackson asked.

"Why would I have any reason to not feel safe?" Lisa asked suspiciously. "Is someone threatening my life again?"

"No," Jackson said. "Fortunately. I was just suggesting that because of your connection to me and the rest of the people at the complex, you could possibly be used as some kind of bait for the rest of us."

"Basically a repeat of last time," Lisa said, rolling her eyes. "Great."

"I don't know anything yet," Jackson pointed out. "For all I know, this thing could just be an isolated incident and I'll look like a complete fool for being so worked up about it."

Lisa sighed, and they walked along in silence for a few moments before Lisa frowned thoughtfully and turned to him.

"Why did you ask me if I was happy?" she asked. Jackson looked at her quietly for a few minutes.

"I wanted to know if you were happy," he said quietly. "I wanted to make sure that before you get thrown into any more mess, that you're doing it for a good reason."

"Jackson, in these past three months, I've been happier than I have in a long, long time," Lisa said. "There's no need to ask me if I'm happy. I'm happy."

Jackson nodded and smiled at her.

"That's all I ask," he said, and then he faced front once again as they continued walking. Lisa sighed and looked down at the ground, shuffling her feet slightly as she walked along.

She knew from Jackson's tone that whatever it was that he had discovered, it wasn't something that was going to make everyone jump for joy; that much was clear. She just wasn't sure exactly what it was that he was so worried about. She knew from the look in his eye that he didn't want her to ask, however, so she figured she just wouldn't say anything about it.

They rounded the corner, and Lisa gasped with horror when she saw that there were fire trucks lining the street in front of her apartment. A fire was blazing in one of the uppermost windows, and the firemen were rushing to put it out.

"Oh my God," she groaned. "Perfect. Just perfect."

She turned to say something to Jackson, then saw that he was looking at the building in front of them suspiciously. Lisa looked back at the building and realized what it was that he was thinking. She gasped, and he looked down at her. Slowly, he nodded.


	3. If Love Is A Labor I'll Slave Til

Wow, I've been really busy all during break, so I've had very little time to write, but I figure I'll post this now even though I'm only half of a chapter ahead! Whoops.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Please remember to review again!

**Gladys Bagg: **I will try! Thanks for reviewing!

**Lorelle: **haha yes, Vincent and Harrison are both very lovable people :D. The other chick will be coming in soon! Eek! She's going to cause quite the problem. I'm glad my story is something that you and your friend share! Hahaha. And wow, six times is amazing, even more is so incomprehensible! Hahaha. Thanks for reviewing! And I love you guys too!

**Joelle: **Oh, she most definitely ISN'T any good! Jealous Lisa will most definitely make an appearance! Haha, Jackson seems to me like a smooth guy who doesn't let his emotions get in the way often, so really has no idea how to go about the whole wooing thing. Hehe Thanks for reviewing!

* * *

**Chapter 3 – **If Love Is A Labor, I'll Slave Til the End

_Am I loud and clear, or am I breaking up?  
__Am I still your charm, or am I just bad luck?  
__Are we getting closer, or are we just getting more lost?_

_I'll show you mine if you show me yours first  
__Let's compare scars; I'll tell you whose is worse  
__Let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words. _

_We live on front porches and swing life away  
__We get by just fine here on minimum wage  
__If love is a labor, I'll slave till the end  
__I won't cross this street until you hold my hand_

_I've been here so long, I think it's time to move  
__The winter's so cold; summer's over too soon  
__Let's pack up our bags and settle down where palm trees grow  
__  
I've got some friends, some that I hardly know  
__But we've had some times I wouldn't trade for the world  
__We chase these days down with talks of places that we will go  
__  
We live on front porches and swing life away  
__We get by just fine here on minimum wage  
__If love is a labor, I'll slave till the end  
__I won't cross these streets until you hold my hand  
__Until you hold my hand. _

_I'll show you mine if you show me yours first  
__Let's compare scars; I'll tell you whose is worse  
__Let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words.  
__  
We live on front porches and swing life away  
__We get by just fine here on minimum wage  
__If love is a labor, I'll slave till the end  
__I won't cross this street until you hold my hand_

Swing Life Away  
Rise Against

* * *

"You're sure you can get this to work?" asked the dark voice. The hand slowly scratched a few words across a piece of paper with a black pen.

"Positive," answered another voice, the owner standing straight and tall before the shadowy desk. "I have no doubts in my mind, sir."

"Good," the man behind the desk answered, putting down the pen and standing up. The person standing in front of the desk backed up a little bit, trying not to let the frightened expression appear on their face. They couldn't help the fear; they had messed up so many times that this was their only shot at redemption. "You realize that if this goes wrong, you will suffer."

"Yes, I do realize that."

"Good." A pause. "We need Paradise to fall again, but this time I want to make sure that it's permanently."

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Go out and do that."

"Yes, sir. Vincent Gavery and his men will fall."

* * *

"Excuse me, sir," Jackson said with a worried frown to one of the firemen standing outside of Lisa's apartment. "What's going on here?"

"A fire on the third floor," the man replied stoically.

"How did it start?" Jackson asked.

"We don't know yet," the man replied, shrugging. The fire was slowly dying out as they spoke, and by the time they had finished, it had completely vanished. Black smoke billowed into the sky. Jackson turned to Lisa, looking worried.

"It wasn't on my floor," Lisa pointed out. Jackson nodded slowly, but didn't look all that convinced.

"It had to do with you," he said. "Without any doubt in my mind at all. It had to do with you. Whoever did it obviously knows about my connection to you. Maybe this whole Jeff Franklin thing wasn't isolated after all."

"Why are they coming after me?" Lisa asked, panicking. "I'm not in the way again, am I?"

"No," Jackson said, shaking his head. "They did it to get to me emotionally."

"I think they completely overestimated my role in your life," Lisa said with a snort.

"No, they hit the nail right on the head with this one," Jackson said absently, still looking up at the building with a frown on his face. Lisa knew very well that he hadn't even been aware that he had said that, and decided not to say anything, a small self-satisfied smile flashing across her face.

"Can you drive me to my father's?" she asked with a small sigh after a long moment of silence had passed. "I'm obviously not staying here tonight."

"You're coming back to the complex," Jackson said, not looking at her. "And so is your father."

"He'll never agree to it," Lisa said, shaking her head.

"He's going to have to," Jackson answered, still not turning. "It's not safe."

"Jackson, this could just be…"

"It's not," Jackson replied, turning to face her at last with a harsh tone. "Trust me just this once, Leese."

"I've been doing a lot of that, lately," Lisa said with a sigh. Jackson glanced at her and smiled slightly, putting a hand on her back and turning her away.

"I know it's a lot to ask," he said with mock sympathy. Suddenly, there was a loud crash, and then a scream, following by a deafening boom of an explosion. Jackson automatically wrapped his other arm around Lisa's stomach and turned his back to the fire, shielding her as the explosion ripped through the air. They were knocked to the ground, and Lisa hit the ground hard, the heat rolling over her in waves as Jackson fell on top of her.

The world was complete chaos for a few bare moments, and then the deafening roar died down, and the air was filled with panicked screams. Jackson placed his hands on either side of Lisa's head and looked over his shoulder at the building. It had completely collapsed, and the fire was ravaging the building beside it. Shouts and screams from people lying on the street and sidewalk tore through the air, and ambulance workers and firemen ran from place to place, helping people up and tending to the wounded.

"Oh my God," Lisa whispered, looking up at Jackson with fear in her eyes. Jackson stared at the burning building with a hard expression.

"Come on," he said, standing up and tossing his hair back absently as he looked around the darkened silhouettes gathered around the remnants of Lisa's home. "We have to get out of here."

"What about…everything," Lisa said, putting her hand to her head and closing her eyes with frustration. "Oh my God."

"Come on, Leese," Jackson said, grasping her hands and pulling her to her feet, putting an arm around her shoulders to steady her as he briskly walked her down the sidewalk. Pulling out his cell phone, he glanced first one way, then the other. "Look out for anyone following us."

Lisa glanced behind them, her hair flying about her face in the sudden gust of wind that blew past them. Everyone was still running around by the fire in her apartment.

"What am I supposed to do?" she asked, panicking. "Everything was in there. All my stuff, all my money…everything!"

"Don't worry," Jackson said shortly, tightening his hold on her. He held the phone to his ear. "Vincent? You and Harrison come pick me up. Meet me in the park by the fountain. There's been a problem. I don't want to talk about it on the phone, but I need you as fast as you can come, and come prepared."

Lisa didn't hear what Vincent said on the other end, but Jackson hung up the phone with a satisfied air, and then he looked both ways before pulling Lisa across the street and into the park. They disappeared into the protective foliage and made their way warily down a path before they finally managed to get to the fountain in the center. Lisa sat down on one of the benches surrounding the fountain, while Jackson paced back and forth, his hands shoved into his pockets as he chewed on his lip thoughtfully and kept a sharp eye out for anyone who might be coming.

"Do you really think they're _that _intent on killing me?" Lisa asked, exasperated. "Jackson, what if this is all just one big coincidence."

"It isn't," Jackson said shortly. "Leese, whoever did this knows that in order to get to someone, you have to get to people close to them. With the Organization, I did it too many times to count. I did it to you, remember. This isn't just a coincidence. First with the Salisbury hit, then with the apartment…" Jackson's face suddenly registered recognition.

"What?" Lisa asked, knowing by the look on his face that he had stumbled onto something big.

"I don't think the Salisbury hit was meant to be real at all," he said, looking at her with the frenzied look in his eye that he always got when he was on a roll with something.

"What, you mean someone set Franklin up so I would be endangered?" Lisa asked, surprisingly comprehending what Jackson was trying to say.

"Exactly," Jackson said. "That was a warning! Dammit, why didn't I see it before?"

"Because the hints are subtle, if even existent," Lisa said, rolling her eyes. "Jackson, honestly, you're probably making a big deal out of nothing."

"The fire, the explosion?" Jackson asked. "I'd bet you anything that tomorrow the word is going to be that the fire was started by an arsonist."

"It doesn't matter. Who has such a grudge against you that they would go after _me _to get to you?"

"I don't have time to make up _that_ kind of list," Jackson said, rolling his eyes. "I'll tell you the people who _don't_ have enough of a grudge against me to want to kill you. We'd save some time that way."

"Okay," Lisa admitted begrudgingly, beginning to get a little frightened. She was starting to see Jackson's point, though there was nothing in the world she wanted less. She didn't _want _to believe that there was someone after her. It was so much easier to pretend that Jackson was overreacting. "It's just…I don't know, Jackson. It all seems a little far-fetched to me."

"It's not," Jackson said, shaking his head. "I've done crazier things on less of a relationship. Whoever's doing it is doing it to make me break down and make mistakes." He rolled his eyes heavenward and shook his hair out, closing his eyes for a moment. "And, damn them, it's working."

Lisa didn't respond to that. She just looked down at the ground as Jackson continued to pace back and forth, running a hand through his hair and swearing under his breath darkly. They remained in that silence for a while until Jackson finally took a seat next to Lisa on the bench, sighing and squeezing his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

"I just don't understand this," Lisa said with a sigh, turning to face him.

"There's not much to understand," Jackson snapped, turning to look at her with a loathing expression in his eyes, as if he blamed her for everything. "Whoever it is that wants to get to me wants you dead because they know your connection to me. Now, if that's too complicated for you to get, Leese, I'm terribly sorry, but I don't think I can break it down to your level. Now _please _just stop asking questions."

Lisa sighed and got to her feet. Jackson looked at her with surprise. She gave him a withering glare, then turned and started walking away.

"I guess if I'm such a burden, I should go back to my home, huh?" she said sarcastically, stopping and looking at him. "Back to that _wonderful_ apartment of mine with my _entire life_ in it." She turned and started walking back towards where she could still hear the screaming and the hose powerfully shooting water at the burning apartment building.

"Leese, stop," Jackson exclaimed, hurrying after her. She sped up, but it wasn't long before he had grabbed her arm and turned her back towards him, an angry expression on his face. "I don't think you realize what you're doing."

"I realize completely what I'm doing," Lisa snapped. "I'm going back to a home that no longer exists because apparently some nutcase out there thinks you care about me a hell of a lot more than you do. My _life_ is gone, and now I'm going to have to go through hell and back to _yet again_ set up _something _akin to normalcy in my life. I know _exactly_ what I'm going back to, and let me tell you, all that is at least _thirty_ times better than staying out here with _you_."

She pulled her arm out of his grasp and turned to walk away again, but Jackson just grabbed her again, this time turning her with much more force and looking at her with a dangerous glint in his eye.

"Oh, it's better than being here with me, is it?" he asked mockingly. "I don't think you realize that these people are serious. They're not playing childish little games and doing things out of spite just to upset me. These people are serious about getting to me. They're not just going to let it go."

"You don't even know if _these people_ exist!" Lisa growled. "You're giving them personality and determination based on two events that could easily be coincidences."

"I know these people exist," Jackson replied stoically. "And I will _not _let you go out there and risk your life just to prove a point."

"I _will _scream," Lisa said through clenched teeth. "If you do not let me go."

Jackson glared at her for a long moment, and then he slowly released her arm. Lisa pulled it back from him, and then suddenly Jackson launched forward and clapped his hand over her mouth, using the other arm to wrap around her neck. Lisa tried to scream, but his hand was firmly in place, and barely a sound came out. Jackson leaned forward, talking softly into her ear.

"There's no need," he murmured. "I don't know why you always seem to have to go out of your way to piss me off and wear me down day after day after day."

Lisa shoved him off of her with every bit of strength that she had. She managed to knock him off of her, and she pulled back, glaring.

"Well if that's the case, then I'm sure you wouldn't mind if I left," she growled. Then, she turned and started walking again. Jackson swore and watched her go for a few moments. What went through his head in those seconds, only Jackson would ever know for sure, but as soon as Lisa disappeared around the corner of the path, he jogged after her quickly.

It wasn't long before he caught up to her. He could barely see her shadowy figure in the darkness.

"Lisa!" he exclaimed, and she turned around to face him, hurriedly wiping her eyes. He stopped in his tracks in his surprise when he realized that she was crying. He instantly felt sorry for everything that he had said. "Don't…don't do this, Leese."

"Why not?" Lisa asked, somehow managing to keep her voice completely under control. It wasn't the first time she had done it, but Jackson never ceased to be amazed by it.

"Just…come on," Jackson said, holding out a hand. "Don't go out there."

Lisa looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to say what she wanted him to say. She wanted him to say that he was sorry; that he hadn't meant what he had said. Though she knew deep down that Jackson would never admit that he was sorry, and he would definitely never tell her that he was wrong in what he had said. Jackson never apologized for stuff like that. It was like some huge compromise to his pride or something.

"I don't think you would mind," she said, looking at him with a challenge in her eyes. He glared back. He knew what she wanted him to say, and he knew that she wasn't going to back down until he said it.

"I would mind," he said quietly, as if he didn't want anyone else to hear. Lisa rolled her eyes.

"No, you wouldn't," she muttered angrily. She turned and started to walk away again, her features clouded with disappointment. Jackson's fists clenched tightly and he looked around, looking for something to help him. Then, he sighed and strode forward, grabbing her roughly by the shoulders and pulling her around to face him, looking her intensely in the eyes

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "Please, don't go out there."

Lisa looked at him with an unreadable expression. Then, she slowly nodded, and Jackson led her over to the bench, where they sat in an awkward silence and waited to be picked up.

* * *

Joe Reisert was sitting in his recliner, watching TV and eating cereal at midnight with the phone by his side when there was a knock at the door. Being prone to talk to himself when he was alone, as many people are, he muttered something about people coming to his house so late, and pushed himself painfully out of his chair, walking over to the door.

"Coming, coming," he said, sighing heavily. He unlocked the door and threw it open, surprised when he saw who stood there. "Leese? What are you doing here?"

But not only was Lisa standing at his door; Jackson, Vincent, and Harrison all were there as well, weapons drawn and pointed into the interior of his home.

"Is there anyone in there but you?" Jackson asked in a professional tone that Joe had surprisingly not heard him use before.

"Not that I'm aware of," Joe said, making a face. "Lisa, what's going on here?"

"Dad, some guys are after me again," Lisa said, looking him over to make sure he wasn't hurt in any way. Jackson, Harrison, and Vincent started sweeping through the house, their guns ready. "They just burned down my apartment."

"_What_?" Joe asked incredulously. "Why are they after you?"

"They're trying to get to Jackson," Lisa said. "And they think that killing me off is the way to do it."

"I told you that boy was no good," Joe said under his breath, so Jackson couldn't hear.

"It's not his fault," Lisa shot back, glaring at her father. Joe sighed.

"Well why are you here?" he asked. "You don't think _I'm _in danger, do you?"

"We're not sure," Lisa said. "But Jackson thought it would be best if we took you back to Paradise. The complex. Just in case."

"I don't want to go _there_," Joe said incredulously.

"Dad, honestly, it's a lot nicer than you think. You can have your own room with TV, and you can watch the Gameshow network all day and go out to eat in the center every night, okay?"

"Will you be there?" Joe asked.

"Yeah, I'll be there," Lisa said. Joe nodded slowly.

"All right," he said reluctantly. "I don't like it, though. Let that be known. Just let me go get my things."

"Hey, I'll go with you," Vincent said, sticking out his hand. "Vincent Gavery. I run Paradise."

Joe reached out and tentatively shook Vincent's hand.

"I've heard of you," he said simply. "I appreciate everything you've done for my daughter, I'd like to tell you."

"It's my pleasure," Vincent said. "Anything for a friend."

He smiled at Lisa, and she smiled back. Joe started up the stairs, and Vincent followed, keeping the idle chatter going as his eyes roamed the upstairs for any potential threat.

"Nothing down here," Jackson said as he emerged from the kitchen.

"Nothing," Harrison agreed as he came from the living room. They both met in the center and sighed with relief.

"Nevertheless," Jackson said thoughtfully. "I want a team here to watch the house. Take anyone who seems to be with intent of harming Mr. Reisert, and take them _alive_. I want them questioned. Set up a double of Mr. Reisert watching television in case they look in the windows."

"Got it," Harrison said, picking up his phone and dialing quickly, walking into the other room.

"Benefits of having a glorified secretary," Jackson said with a grin. Lisa smiled.

"I guess that would be a benefit," she said. "He's certainly good at what he does."

"He is," Jackson agreed. "Do you have any clothing here or anything that you could use?"

Lisa shook her head.

"No," she said. "Everything I owned was in that apartment."

"Okay," Jackson said, exhaling heavily. "I'll go shopping for you at the center when you're getting your father settled in."

"Okay," Lisa said, not finding the suggestion odd at all. After all, he had picked out clothes for her before, and he seemed to know her taste and size well enough.

"We're set to go," Vincent declared as he and Joe walked down the stairs.

"Let's go before someone gets here," Jackson said, taking Lisa's arm gently and leading her down the stairs quickly and across the lawn to the car. Harrison and Vincent got into the front seat, while Joe, Lisa, and Jackson all got into the back.

"Do you really think this is all necessary?" Joe asked Jackson. "I don't think anyone's going to be trying to kill me."

"Lisa didn't either," Jackson reminded him. "Until it became quite clear that someone was after her. You're going to have to trust me. I know that's a lot to ask, believe me, I do…but for your own good, and for Lisa's good, you're going to have to."

Lisa looked at Jackson proudly. They both knew that the only thing Joe could stand about Jackson was the fact that he was so logical and reasonable and upfront about things. Joe didn't like it when people minced words around him; Jackson put it all out in the open; god damn the consequences.

"I'll trust you," Joe said in a dangerous tone, implying something along the lines of if he screwed up, there would be hell to pay. "As long as you keep my daughter safe."

"I'm doing pretty good so far," Jackson said with a grin. He turned to Lisa. "By the way, Leese. Basil was really worried about you after today. He feels like it's his fault. I tried talking to him; tried telling him that there was nothing he could do, but he didn't get it. Maybe you could talk to him a little bit. He'll listen to you."

"Okay," Lisa said with a sad smile. "I had a feeling he'd think it was his fault."

"He's just that kind of guy," Jackson said, shrugging.

"Yeah," Lisa said sadly. "I'll try to get him to understand that it's not."

"Good," Harrison said from the front, turning to look at her. "I swear his face could thaw _Jackson's_ heart. He's been moping around all day, being completely miserable."

Lisa looked at Jackson and smiled slightly.

"Wow, he must look pretty sad," she said. "Thaw _Jackson's _heart? Now that takes a lot."

"Hey," Jackson said warningly. Lisa laughed.

Joe watched the two of them talk, and watched them flirt, with a frown on his face. He didn't like the direction in which the conversation was going, not to mention the entire relationship. It was clear that despite everything that had happened to them, there was something a little more than just friendship there, though he knew that Lisa wouldn't admit it if he was to ask.

Lisa saw her father looking at her, and she gave him a warning look. He grinned slightly. She knew what he was thinking.

"How far away _is _this place?" Joe asked.

"Not too far," Vincent said. "Just settle back and enjoy the ride."

Joe sighed uneasily. It was very clear that settling back and enjoying the ride was as far from his mind as possible.

* * *

Scarlett was waiting at the front gate for them when they were allowed in. Joe walked into the complex with wide eyes, looking around with the expression that all first-timers wore.

"Oh my God," he said raggedly.

"That's what they all say," Vincent said, patting Joe on the back and grinning. "Just wait until you see the center."

"What's going on?" Scarlett asked him, walking up with an annoyed expression on her face. "You know, I'd appreciate if you would tell me things from time to time."

"Someone's trying to kill Lisa," Harrison answered for Vincent, who appeared quite reluctant to answer. "So we brought her and her dad back here to keep them safe."

"What?" Scarlett asked, glaring at Vincent. He flinched slightly; he knew he was in trouble. "You could have _told _me this, you know."

"I know," Vincent said with a groan. "I just didn't think. We were kind of rushing…"

"He forgot," Jackson whispered loudly to Scarlett.

"Thanks, Jackson," Scarlett whispered loudly back. "I thought so too."

"Man, why you gotta do that?" Vincent asked, throwing his hands up. Harrison and Jackson laughed, highly amused by the sight in front of them.

"I never thought I'd see the day when Vincent Gavery was completely _owned _by a woman," Jackson said, smirking. "Yet here you are."

Harrison made a noise that sounded a good deal like a whip cracking. Jackson snorted with amusement. Lisa smiled as she watched them; moments like that were rare. They reminded her of normal men; bickering and fighting over stupid things that wouldn't matter in the morning.

"Hey, leave it!" Scarlett exclaimed, pointing a finger at Jackson and Harrison, who promptly shut up. "Don't you start spreading the seeds of revolution or anything. I like my man the way he is."

"Yeah," Vincent said, sounding hurt. "That's right, assholes. Hear that?"

Jackson and Harrison both laughed, obviously not very impressed. Vincent just turned and walked away, draping his arm across Scarlett's shoulders and walking with her into the complex, speaking to her in a low murmur.

"That was Scarlett," Lisa pointed out to Joe. He nodded in understanding. He had heard of Scarlett many times from his daughter, but had never met her.

"Let's go," Jackson said. "We're going to get you set up in a room, all right?"

"Okay," Joe said. Jackson and Harrison walked speedily down the hallway towards the center. Joe and Lisa fell back a little.

"Thanks for cooperating," Lisa said with a smile for her father. "I know it's hard for you."

"Yeah," Joe muttered, obviously not very happy with the arrangements either way. "I couldn't very well let you stay here by yourself, could I?"

"Well, you could have," Lisa said, neglecting to mention that several times, she had stayed the night at the complex simply because it had been too late for her to go home.

"Not if I wanted to maintain my good father reputation," Joe said, and Lisa could hear the slight sarcasm in his voice. She smiled sadly. She knew that he blamed himself for everything that had happened to her during the Andropov operation, though she had tried to convince him many times that it wasn't his fault and that there was nothing he could have done to prevent it. He was absolutely convinced that he could have done more, no matter what she said.

"Either way," she said to change the subject. "I'm proud of you for being so good about this."

Joe was silent, but he sighed heavily to show her just how much being cooperative was killing him. She laughed slightly and shook her head at him.

"Okay," Jackson said, pushing open the doors to the center. Joe's jaw immediately dropped to the floor.

"Oh my…" he murmured, looking around. "How is it possible that no one knows about this place?"

"Oh, people know," Jackson said with a small chuckle. "But the people who know are the people who want to keep us in business."

"This is incredible," Joe said. His eyes fell on the gift shop as they walked by, and he smirked slightly. "You've even got merchandise."

"We do," Jackson said with a smirk.

"The assassin trading cards are my favorite," Lisa said confidentially to Joe.

"Personally, I like the chess set," Harrison remarked thoughtfully.

"I can never choose," Jackson said, sighing. Joe laughed.

"A chess set?" he asked.

"Jackson's the king," Lisa said, rolling her eyes. "That's why _he _likes it."

"You mean they actually carve the people that work here?" Joe asked, looking dubious.

"Indeed," Jackson said. "Jimmy's idea."

They had crossed the center, and were going down the hallway which Lisa was very familiar with. It was the hallway that housed Jackson's old room. Jackson stopped at the door beside his old one, pushing it open. It was much less furnished than Jackson's room; the walls were pained a dull beige color and there were no paintings on the wall. Still, it was a nice room, and it reminded Lisa greatly of a hotel room.

"This is nice," Joe said, sounding quite unsurprised. He put down his bag and looked around. "Do all of the rooms look like this?"

"They vary," Jackson said, shrugging. "But generally this is what's in all of them."

"And no one's living here?" Joe asked, surprised.

"This hallway is more like the reserved guest rooms," Harrison answered. "People who stay here often but don't actually live here."

"I see," Joe said, looking around the room. "There's something wrong with this room, isn't there?"

"No," Harrison said with a laugh. "It's perfectly fine."

Joe shrugged.

"All right," he said.

"Harrison, how about you help Mr. Reisert get settled in," Jackson said suddenly. "I need to talk to Leese about something."

Harrison nodded and turned to Joe as Jackson and Lisa made a hasty exit. Jackson swiftly closed the door behind them.

"What is it?" Lisa asked, her eyes narrowing in question.

"Vincent went with Scarlett to go see if they could get any leads on who burned the building."

"How would they do that?" Lisa asked, following Jackson as he began to walk towards the center once again.

"Leya," Jackson said simply, rolling his eyes. Lisa smiled.

"Leya?" she asked. "I didn't know she was good with that kind of thing."

"She's a complete computer genius," Jackson said, rolling his eyes. "You'd never know it, though, the way she acts."

"You wouldn't," Lisa mused, shaking her head.

Jackson and Lisa walked briskly through the center and through one of the many doors leading off into another connecting hallway. Lisa had never been down that hallway before; it was where business was conducted. She felt a little out of place as she walked past the people walking into the various rooms. They were all dressed in suits and the kind of clothing she wore to work at the hotel. She looked down at her dirty jeans and now-tattered shirt and tried to blend into the surroundings a little more.

Jackson pushed open one of the glass doors that branched off the hallway. Vincent, Scarlett, and seventeen-year-old Leya Martin were all gathered around one of the many computer monitors in the room. Leya was typing frantically, bent over the keyboard with her eyes narrowed in thought.

"So why are they after her?" she was asking Scarlett. When Jackson and Lisa entered, she looked up with surprise, pushing her long, blonde hair out of her eyes.

."Did you find anything?" Jackson asked.

"Working on it," Leya replied. She glanced at Lisa. "Hey," she said.

"Hi," Lisa replied. She and Leya talked often, since there weren't many teenaged girls at the complex, and Lisa was the closest female to Leya in age.

"You okay?" Leya asked, looking Lisa over for injury.

"Yeah," Lisa replied. "I'm fine."

"Well, the good news is that I think I've got it narrowed down," Leya said, glancing at her computer screen and then looking back up at Jackson, continuing to type though her eyes were no longer looking at the keyboard or the screen. "But not to a person. An organization."

"What kind of organization?" Jackson asked, walking over to the computer swiftly and bending over her shoulder

"The People's Freeland," Leya read, her nose wrinkling in confusion. "I've never heard of them."

"You wouldn't have," Jackson said absently as his eyes scrolled the writing on the screen in front of him. "It was way before your time. I thought they had completely shut down. Why would they be after Lisa?"

"I don't know," Leya answered. "But I cross-referenced all known assassins in our database with faces of the people who were at the apartment when the shit hit the fan, thanks to various security cameras. There were three men at the site, all three of them from the People's Freeland."

"What kind of a name is that?" Lisa asked, making a face.

"A shitty one," Vincent answered, folding his arms over his chest. "And it fit. The People's Freelanders sucked royally at their jobs. They had one, maybe two good hits in their entire run. They lasted about five years in the big leagues. I don't know how."

"Whoa, whoa, what's this?" Leya asked suddenly, tapping a few times on the keyboard and then flopping back against her chair, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"Oh my…" Scarlett murmured, stepping forward a bit. "Is that…?"

"Dave," Jackson said with conviction. "David Tilson."


	4. There's No Way To Deny She's Lovely

Wowww sorry about the long wait. I've had a really busy week. We had my wicked early birthday party, which was awesome, and my crush was there :D, and then we played manhunt and I got to wear his sweatshirt which smelled like him, and he helped me put it on which was wicked wicked cute, and then I slept over a friends house and was up until 5:45 in the morning, not even joking…and all through that I kept thinking 'oh…when I get home…I'll update!' Obviously, that didn't happen. Then, Monday I had my AP English test. Advice to everyone in high school: Be a dumbass! AP sucks.

Anyway, that's my rant. Thanks to the ten amazing individuals who reviewed last time :D. Please review again!

**Gladys Bagg:** I've been told that, yes :D. Thanks for reviewing!

**Lorelle: **Dave's been mentioned before, though I'm not surprised no one picked up on it because he was never actually in the story, just mentioned offhand a few times. He's Vincent and Jackson's childhood friend, though you find all that out in the following chapter anyway! Haha.  
Awww I'm glad you like my story so much! That makes me incredibly happy and makes me want to write more, hahaha. Which is a good thing I guess!  
Thanks for reviewing!

Oh yes, and I got myself a new xanga, since my sister discovered my other one and I couldn't emo-rant for fear of being made fun of. But now I can emo rant to my heart's content and no one but you can judge me. And hopefully emo-rainting is okay :D

www(dot)xanga(dot)com/x3letoloverx3

HIT IT UP bitches :D

P.S.: This chapter is SUPER LONG! 2 extra pages. You know you love me :D

* * *

**Chapter 4: **There's No Way To Deny She's Lovely 

_Small town homecoming queen  
She's a star in this scene  
There's no way to deny she's lovely  
Perfect skin, perfect hair  
Perfumed hearts everywhere  
Tell myself that inside she's ugly  
Maybe I'm just jealous-I can't help but hate her  
Secretly I wonder if my boyfriend wants to date her _

She is the prom queen, I'm in the marching band  
She is a cheerleader, I'm sitting in the stands  
She gets the top bunk, I'm sleeping on the floor  
She's Miss America  
And I'm just the girl next door

Senior class president  
She must be heaven sent  
She was never the last one standing  
A backseat debutante  
Everything that you want  
Never too harsh or too demanding  
Maybe I'll admit it, I'm a little bitter  
Everybody loves her, but I just wanna hit her…

She is the prom queen, I'm in the marching band  
She is a cheerleader, I'm sitting in the stands  
She gets the top bunk, I'm sleeping on the floor  
She's Miss America  
And I'm just the girl next door

I don't know why I'm feeling sorry for myself  
Spend all my time wishing that I was someone else  
She is the prom queen, I'm in the marching band  
She is a cheerleader, I'm sitting in the stands  
She gets the top bunk, I'm sleeping on the floor  
She's Miss America  
And I'm just the girl next door

I get a little bit, she gets a little more  
She's Miss America  
And I'm just the girl next door

Girl Next Door  
Saving Jane

* * *

"Dave Tilson?" Lisa asked incredulously. "As in Dave, your friend, Dave?" 

"Yeah," Vincent said hollowly, stunned.

"Holy shit, what was he doing there?" Scarlett asked, putting her hands to her forehead. "Is he back yet?"

"I'm gonna kill that bastard," Jackson growled, starting towards the door.

"No, no, hold up!" Leya yelled. "Stop!"

Jackson stopped, partially out of surprise that Leya was yelling. She was usually a pretty quiet girl who went along with everything that Jackson told her to do.

"Leya, he tried to kill Lisa," Jackson said in as calm a voice as he could manage.

"We don't know that," Leya replied, standing up and facing Jackson with her arms folded across her chest. "Someone could have tampered with the videos in order to frame him and get us off the real chase. I think you should bring him in for questioning. Interrogate him. If he knows anything, make him talk. But don't kill him blindly because of inconclusive proof on a video. He's your friend, Jackson. I think you owe him that, at least."

"We don't have time," Jackson said, though it was a weak excuse, at best. Everyone knew he just wanted to make someone hurt for trying to kill Lisa. Since Dave was their only lead, hurting Dave seemed to be the only option.

"We have all the time in the world, Jackson," Leya argued. "Don't get ahead of things. Lisa's safe, we're safe, and now all we can do is try and figure things out, but we have to figure things out correctly. Killing him isn't going to solve anything."

"We'll go find him. If he's back, and we'll bring him in and question him," Vincent said, because Jackson didn't appear to have anything to say to that.

"Fine," Jackson agreed. "We'll do that."

It was very clear that Jackson wasn't planning on listening to anything that Dave had to say, but no one stopped he and Vincent as they left the room and started towards the front gate. Leya turned to Scarlett and Lisa.

"You wanna tell me what's going on here?" she asked.

"We're not really sure," Scarlett said, shrugging. "All we know is that someone's after Lisa, and they're probably trying to get to Jackson through her."

"And we don't know why," Leya assumed. Scarlett nodded. Leya sighed.

"Well," she said, turning to Lisa. "I'm glad you're okay. And I'm sorry about your apartment."

"Thanks," Lisa said, smiling sadly. She was trying not to think about the fact that she had lost everything she owned.

"Yeah, I'm really glad you're all right, too," Scarlett said. "And don't worry. We'll find whoever did this."

"I know you will," Lisa said simply. Scarlett sat down beside Leya.

"So," she said to Leya. "What's been up with you. I haven't talked to you in a while. How's things with that Joe kid?"

"Things are the same," Leya said with a sigh, rolling her eyes and propping her elbow on the computer desk, putting her hand under her chin and turning her head towards Scarlett. "He's still going out with that extremely gorgeous girl from outside."

"Really?" Scarlett asked, surprised. "I thought that would have been over with long ago. She doesn't seem too bright."

"None of his girlfriends are ever bright," Leya replied, snorting lightly. "They're always completely stupid. I think that's how he likes them."

"He's just shallow," Scarlett said, shaking his head. "All he wants is sex. Guys are like that."

"Not all of them," Leya replied defensively. "And as far as I know, he hasn't had sex with any of them."

"Who are we talking about?" Lisa asked, arching her eyebrow.

"This kid that Leya's been obsessed with since she got here," Scarlett said, grinning. "What was it, two years now?"

"Yeah," Leya said, sighing. "My friend Joe."

"Oh," Lisa said. "Well, I know how that feels."

"Really?" Leya asked. "You've had feelings for a friend before?"

"Yeah," Lisa answered quietly, thinking of Jackson. "I think every woman has."

"I sure have," Scarlett said thoughtfully, obviously thinking of Vincent.

"And it always ends up that you have this absolutely _beautiful _competition," Leya said, sighing. "Doesn't it?"

"Oh, definitely," Scarlett groaned. "And you just look at yourself and go 'holy shit, I'm not good enough'."

"Oh, _please_," Leya said, rolling her eyes. Like _you _have to worry about that!"

"What?" Scarlett asked, confused and defensive. "Have you _seen _some of the women around here that Vincent's been with? It's like…how can I even hope to compete?"

"But he loves you," Leya pointed out, and Lisa nodded in ready agreement. "It's so obvious, isn't it, Lisa? He's always loved her."

"From the moment I met him," Lisa said, though it was kind of a lie. She hadn't known about Scarlett when she met Vincent.

"You're lucky," Leya said decisively. "To have him. He cares about you a lot more than I think you know."

Scarlett looked down at the ground and smiled slightly, obviously thinking about that. Lisa watched her, and was suddenly filled with sadness. She would have given anything to have what Scarlett had. Scarlett really didn't know how lucky she was.

* * *

Vincent and Jackson were walking through the center when they met up with Harrison, who was just coming from Joe's room. 

"I got him set up and everything," Harrison said. "Got him watching the Gameshow Network."

"Good," Jackson said. "We think we have a lead on Lisa's apartment fire."

"Really?" Harrison asked. "What is it?"

"Dave Tilson was at the site of the fire," Jackson said. "We're going to the front gate right now to see if he checked in."

"Wait, wait, Dave Tilson?" Harrison asked with surprise. "Crazy Dave?"

"Yeah," Vincent exclaimed. "Dave fucking Tilson, man! Okay?"

"All right, Christ," Harrison said, surprised by Vincent's outburst.

"He's just upset," Jackson said to Harrison, shooting Vincent a glare. "This is the last person we expected to turn on us."

Harrison knew what Jackson meant. Vincent and Jackson were the big two. They made all the decisions and called all the shots. Outside of the three of them were people like Harrison, Scarlett, Leya, and Dave; people who the big two trusted with their lives. To have someone from that group betray them was a huge surprise and quite upsetting as well.

"What a bastard," he muttered. "All right, what are we gonna do when we find him?"

"We're going to _question_ him," Jackson said, as if the very thought of doing anything less than killing the man outright disgusted him. "And we're going to try to figure out what he knows."

"What if he doesn't want to talk?" Harrison asked. Vincent turned and grinned humorlessly at the younger man.

"We'll make him talk," he said simply. Harrison suddenly felt like he was back at the Organization again; specifically Johnson Athletic.

"Right," he said quietly. "Okay, well, I'll go back to the lab. If you need me to do anything just…ask."

"Okay," Jackson and Vincent said in unison. Vincent opened the door to the hallway that led to the front door. Harrison turned and swiftly walked away, but Vincent and Jackson continued on. They walked about halfway down the hallway, then turned and opened a door that didn't look any different than any of the others. Inside was an empty room with a metal door on the other side. Vincent walked up to it and knocked on it heavily. Within seconds, the door flew open, revealing an unshaven man standing behind it.

"Wasn't expecting you," he said abashedly. "What do you need?"

"Did you let Dave Tilden in through those doors?" Jackson asked. "Any door."

"No, no Dave," the man replied, shaking his head. "He hasn't been by since this morning."

"Dammit," Jackson swore. "Can you do me a favor, Sal?"

"Anything," Sal answered seriously.

"If he heads over here, let him in, but then get security to nab him and bring him to one of the cells," Jackson said. "You got that?"

"Yeah," Sal said, sounding confused. "Why we doing this, Jackson?"

"I'd rather not talk about it right now," Jackson said. "But I'll tell you that Dave may have had something to do with an attempt on Lisa's life earlier today. That's all I can say without giving too much away."

Sal looked between Jackson and Vincent with a surprised expression.

"Why would he want to kill Lisa?" he asked.

"We don't know yet," Vincent replied. "That's why we need him."

"Got it," Sal said, looking proud that he was being entrusted with something so obviously important.

"Good," Jackson said. "Vincent, let's go."

He started to walk out of the room.

"You know," Vincent grumbled as he walked after him. "This whole 'me being the leader' thing only works if I get to tell _you _what to do once in a while."

With a heavy sigh, he followed Jackson out of the room.

* * *

"Are you certain she was not in the building?" 

"Completely certain."

"How do you know that?"

"I saw her, afterwards, with Rippner."

"Dammit!"

"Don't worry. I'll take care of it."

"You need to get into the complex."

"I can't. He'll know."

"He won't know. You have to go."

"He'll kill me if he sees me!"

"Then I lose you. You see how upset the prospect makes me? Get there and kill the girl, or Rippner will be the least of your worries."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Lisa knocked on Joe's door several hours after they had gotten settled in. 

"Who is it?" he yelled.

"Lisa," Lisa replied, smiling slightly.

"Come in," he called.

"Can't, daddy," Lisa said, rolling her eyes. "They don't open from the outside without a key."

"Oh," Joe said, sounding embarrassed. She heard him moving around inside the room, and then he opened the door. "Sorry. Didn't know that."

"You have a lot to learn," Lisa said with a chuckle. "Hopefully, we won't be here long enough for you to learn it all."

"Hopefully," Joe said with a snort. He shook his head and moved aside to let her in. She walked in and looked around, smiling at how messy he had managed to make the room in the few hours he had lived there.

"I see you've made yourself quite at home," she said, arching her eyebrows and looking at him with a small Jacksonesque smirk on her face.

"I figured, why not get comfortable," Joe said, shrugging, though Lisa knew that something in him only made such a mess because he was rebelling against whatever Jackson wanted him to do. She knew it wasn't a conscious decision, but rather one that the back of his mind made in response to being told what do to by a man who he should by all rights be either hating or killing. It was like he was the teenager and she and Jackson were his parents. Ironic, really.

"Well, I'm glad you finally decided to listen to us," Lisa said with a small smile. "We may be here for a while."

Joe sighed heavily in response, rolling his eyes.

"_Great,_" he said with about as much sarcasm as he could muster.

"Don't get so excited," Lisa said, smiling. "You know, I think you'd be a little happier about this. You get a free room, like a hotel stay, almost, with just about anything you can think of to eat just down the hallway! _And_ you have satellite."

"I'm a little afraid to step outside my room, honestly," Joe said, making a face.

"Oh, daddy," Lisa said, giving him a look that was full of the disappointment which he hated to see on her face. "These people are all good people. Maybe not in the sense that you think divides good and bad, but they're loving and giving and they care about each other, just like you and me. And they care about _us_, daddy, or else we wouldn't be here right now."

"I know, sweetheart," Joe said with a sigh. "Cut me some slack, Leese! It's a little hard to trust your daughter's kidnappers and his friends right off the bat. It's gonna take some time."

"I know it will," Lisa said quietly. "But I'm really glad you're trying."

"I know," Joe said, making a face. "I'm trying."

Lisa smiled at him fondly.

"I have to go," she said. "If you need anything, just ask someone. Everyone's really friendly here."

She turned and walked out of the room after a smile for her father, closing the door behind her.

"Really friendly," Joe snorted, sitting down on the chair heavily and turning back to watching TV. "I'm sure."

* * *

Later that night, Lisa sat with Jackson, Vincent, Scarlett, and Harrison at one of the tables in the restaurants in the complex. 

"You should have invited your father," Harrison said with all the innocence of a twelve year old. "You know, so he can get to know Jackson better."

"I'm sure he'll have _plenty_ of time to get to know Jackson," Vincent said playfully. "Like at the wedding." Jackson and Lisa shot him very similar glares, and Vincent chuckled to himself.

"You know," Scarlett said thoughtfully, a broad smile on her face. "I don't think I remember Jackson being embarrassed about anything, but whenever we bring stuff like this up, you turn as red as a tomato."

"I do not," Jackson said indignantly. Everyone looked at him. His cheeks were indeed slightly red, though no one could really tell if that was embarrassment or the effects of the alcohol they had all been drinking all night long.

"Hey, has anyone seen Celia?" Harrison asked, looking around for his current girlfriend. Scarlett made a gagging noise, and Jackson shuddered lightly. Harrison turned back to look at them, confusion written on his face. "You okay?" he asked Scarlett. She nodded, pounding on her chest a little.

"Sorry," she said. "That name just turned on the gag reflex."

Jackson and Vincent ducked their heads slightly, both of them holding in their laughter. Harrison looked at them, confused."

"Why?" he asked, thinking that it was some kind of joke that he just didn't get.

"Man, your fuck buddy is _nasty_," Vincent said, finally voicing the opinion that they had all had of Harrison's new girlfriend. "I mean, yeah, she's kinda hot, but damn man. I never met a bigger bitch in all my life. And don't tell me it's all about the sex, because she ain't even that good."

"What?" Harrison asked, sounding enraged.

"Man, I told you, I've fucked like every woman in this whole goddamned complex! Some more than once. But that girl, damn I couldn't take one more if you paid me."

"She's not _that _bad," Jackson said defensively. Vincent spat out the mouthful of beer he had just been drinking, practically drenching Harrison. Scarlett and Lisa looked at Jackson with shock, and Harrison just stared around the table as if it was all one big bad dream.

"_You_?" Vincent asked, sounding shocked. "You've…holy shit, Jackson!"

"It was one time," Jackson said shortly. "But she wasn't that bad."

"If it really wasn't that bad, then it wouldn't have just been one time," Vincent said pointedly.

"I couldn't stand talking to her after that," Jackson said, laughing under his breath. "It was more like a pity fuck than anything else."

Vincent laughed uproariously at that one.

"Man, I've never known you to give anyone a_ pity fuck_. Since when do you even _feel _pity?"

"It wasn't pity for _her_," Jackson said with a snort. "I was in a pissed off mood and needed a fuck, for pity's sake.

He said this sarcastically, so it wasn't clear if he was serious or not, but still it was hilarious, especially because they were all at some level of intoxication. Vincent laughed loudly, throwing his head back. Even Lisa and Scarlett managed some uncomfortable giggles. Only Harrison looked completely unamused.

"I don't see why this is so funny," he said angrily. "She hasn't mentioned it once!"

"Well, I'm going to go ahead and make a guess that there's a reason for that," Vincent said. "Maybe Jackson sucked too."

"No," Scarlett said, shaking her head. "No, Jackson doesn't suck at all."

That declaration was met with a stunned silence. Then, Harrison started to laugh.

* * *

"I still can't believe you never told me," Vincent muttered angrily as he and Scarlett walked back to their room that night. 

"There was nothing much to tell," Scarlett said, shrugging. "We were drunk, I was lonely, I slipped something into his drink, and voila! Instant sex."

"I still can't believe you drugged my best friend and tricked him into having sex with you," Vincent said, though Scarlett knew she wasn't imagining the admiration in his tone. "That's horrible."

"Oh please, like you've never done it," Scarlett said with a chuckle.

"Actually, I never have," Vincent said seriously. Scarlett looked at him with surprise.

"Oh," she said. An awkward silence passed between them, and then they both started laughing.

"You think you know something about a person, and then, _bam_, you find out that they have to drug people in order to have sex with them," Vincent said with mock sadness, shaking his head. "Why'd you do it anyway?"

Scarlett shrugged, looking up at him with a smirk.

"I wanted to be able to say that I had," she said. "But then Jackson was furious the next day when he finally realized what was going on. He said if I ever told you, I wouldn't be very happy with the results."

"Well, you'd better look out, because he's probably going to kill you," Vincent said pointedly.

"He didn't seem too mad," Scarlett said uneasily.

"He's going to kill you," Vincent said with a chuckle.

"You wouldn't let him do that," Scarlett said confidently. Vincent shrugged helplessly. Scarlett glared at him. "Would you?"

"I don't know," Vincent said thoughtfully, opening the door to their room with a key. "I mean, that's pretty weird."

"It was so long ago!" Scarlett exclaimed. Vincent shook his head.

"I never could have foreseen that I would one day be having a conversation with my girlfriend about this," Vincent said, shaking his head.

"Hey, sometimes shit happens," Scarlett said, leaning against the doorframe and folding her arms across her chest. Vincent smiled and folded his arms across his chest as well, bending down slightly.

"I think you should show me exactly what you did to Jackson that night. You know, so I can get a better idea of…"

"Yeah, yeah," Scarlett said, interrupting him with a smile. "Right this way."

She smirked at him playfully and walked into the room. Vincent chuckled to himself as he glanced back at the center and then walked inside, closing the door behind him.

* * *

"I don't know…Scarlett just doesn't seem like the type." 

"You really believe that I would have sex with my best friend's girl if I _wasn't _drugged?"

Jackson and Lisa were walking down the hallway towards Lisa's room, ambling at a snail-like pace to make the walk last longer.

"Jackson, it's _you_," Lisa pointed out, giving him a look. "I wouldn't rule _anything_ out."

Jackson grinned slightly.

"True," he said, almost sounding proud of himself. Lisa shook her head and laughed slightly, looking up at him with a fond smile. He had changed so much in the time since they had first met. Or, rather, she had seen more of him than she had been willing to see at first. Judging by the stories that the others told her, he hadn't actually changed all that much. She just hadn't been looking closely enough when they first met. "It was a long time ago, though."

"Yeah," Lisa said, chuckling. "You'd just better hope that Vincent realizes that."

"Scarlett wouldn't let him touch me," Jackson said confidently.

"Maybe not," Lisa said, smirking at him. "But I think that would probably serve to make Vincent even madder."

Jackson chuckled under his breath and nodded in admittance. They reached Lisa's door, and they stopped, looking at the door reluctantly. Lisa didn't really want to go in, and Jackson didn't really want her to leave. There was a short, awkward silence, before Lisa broke it.

"Thanks," she said quietly. "I'll…I'll see you tomorrow."

She smiled at him sadly and turned towards her room. Jackson stopped her, putting his hand on her shoulder and turning around to face him. In the same movement, he bent his head towards hers and held her cheek with his hand. Before Lisa could register what was happening, he was kissing her gently and passionately. She felt his arm snake across her waist, and soon she was being pushed back against the wall. Her hand found its way to his hair, and she kept a firm grip on it as she kissed him back, her other arm wrapping firmly around his neck.

The kiss, for each of them, was the most breathtaking kiss they had ever experienced. They had been repressing their emotions and desires for so long that it was like opening the floodgates at last. When the kiss was finally broken, they stayed locked in each other's arms, their faces mere inches away from each other.

"Goodnight," Lisa whispered breathlessly, then she turned and disentangled herself from Jackson before hurrying into her room and closing the door behind her. Jackson sighed with frustration and turned back to walk down the hallway, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head. It seemed that no matter how hard he tried, nothing ever changed.

* * *

In her room, Lisa sank onto her bed, sighing heavily and running a hand through her hair much in the same way that Jackson was out in the hallway right at that very moment. She was still breathing heavily from that kiss, and her heart was still pounding fit to burst out of her chest. 

Getting to her feet shakily, she kicked off her shoes and walked into the connected bathroom, remembering the first time she had been in the shower. It had been the night that she and Jackson had been dancing to that song, and they had very nearly kissed. It had only been a few months ago, but the total change in opinion was staggering. At that time, the thought of ever kissing Jackson Rippner had been repulsive, at best. Things had definitely changed a little. That kiss had been _anything _but repulsive.

She put her hands on the counter and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was slightly tousled, and her cheeks were flushed red. She also noticed, with a wry smile, that she looked happy. Content. She had definitely needed that.

Humming that same song from three months before, she started to undress and get ready for bed.

* * *

The next morning came much quicker than expected for Jackson. It had felt as if his head had just hit the pillow when his doors suddenly burst open and Vincent stormed in, looking pissed off about something and also slightly apologetic. Which, of course, was never a good thing. Sympathy meant that something bad was about to happen. 

"What is it?" Jackson asked groggily, pushing himself up and attempting to rub the sleep out of his eyes. He glanced at the clock. It was five in the morning. An ungodly hour if there ever was one.

"We got Dave," Vincent replied. He hesitated for a moment, and Jackson could tell that what he was going to say next wasn't going to be anything good. "And there's someone at the front gate who demands entrance."

"Shoot him," Jackson grumbled, pressing his hand to his forehead in a no-doubt futile attempt to cure his pounding headache.

"Her," Vincent corrected. "Jackie… it's Jacqueline."

Jackson's eyes flew open, and he stared at Vincent with his mouth partially open in shock and rage.

"What?" he asked in a low voice. "Jacqueline? Here? Tell me this is a bad joke."

"Unfortunately, I'm completely serious," Vincent said in a sympathetic tone. "I'm sorry, Jackie. She won't leave. She wants a job."

"Who let her in?" Jackson growled.

"Ralph did. He's being detained right now."

"Dammit, what the fuck did he think he was doing?"

"He hasn't said. No one's talked to him yet."

"Send her away. She can't come in."

"Jackson," Vincent said lowly. "You know her. You know what will happen if we turn her away."

"Yeah, she'll tell people. It's not the first time that's happened. Greene will take care of it."

"She knows Greene's on our side. If she wants this to get out, she'll tell someone else. The media, state…who knows who else."

Jackson sighed and struggled to his feet.

"I'll go talk to her," he muttered, though it was clear that there was nothing in the world that he wanted less at that moment. "Does anyone else know?"

"Not yet," Vincent replied.

"Keep it that way," Jackson said shortly. "Especially from Lisa."

He gave Vincent a pointed look. The other man nodded.

"Got it," he said. He turned and walked out of the room, leaving Jackson to get dressed behind him.

* * *

Jackson reached the front gate several minutes later, looking impeccably clean and ready despite the fact that he had been groaning in pain only minutes before. Sal stood beside the gate, which was closed tightly. Several soldiers, each with their own weapons, all stood around a tall, thin woman with blonde hair. When she saw Jackson, she smiled smugly. 

"I knew he'd get you," she said, referring of course to Vincent. Vincent had suspiciously gone missing, though Jackson had to admit that it was definitely a smart move on the other man's part. He wouldn't have wanted to be present at that moment in time either.

"What do you want?" he asked emotionlessly, looking at her with no compassion or feeling in his eyes. Jacqueline Regan, watching him, couldn't tell if he had just gotten very good at hiding his emotions, or if he really didn't have any reaction to her arrival.

"I want a job," she said simply, her chin rising into the air a bit. Her message was clear: two can play at this game.

"A job," Jackson said simply, his brow furrowing. "There are jobs everywhere. You don't need one here."

"I _want_ one here," Jacqueline responded, frowning at him. "Jackson, you know I can help."

"I can find much better help for much less hassle," Jackson replied, shaking his head slightly. "Leave."

He started to turn, but Jacqueline wasn't done.

"I know something about the men who are going after you," she said quickly. Jackson stopped turning, closing his eyes and exhaling heavily.

"What do you know?" he asked, turning on his heel again and facing her with an expression that very accurately conveyed his utmost reluctance. She straightened herself to her full height, smoothing out her knee-length navy blue skirt. He had to admit, she had changed quite a bit. The miniskirts and combat boots had turned into a professional business suit and fashionable heels; the kind of thing that Lisa wore to work.

"I know a lot more than you do," Jacqueline replied, smirking. "And I'll tell you. But I want a job."

"Why do you want a job here so badly?" Jackson asked, narrowing his eyes at her suspiciously. Jacqueline sighed.

"Jackson, you know how much I loved this place," she said in a tone that could only be described as pleading. Jackson was surprised. She had never, _ever_ begged him for anything. "I've been lost, all this time. I want to change myself, to make myself better. I need a place where I can do that, and the streets aren't exactly a good starting point."

Jackson had to admit that she had a valid point. Though he was surprised and slightly unsettled by her transformation, however, he couldn't shake the image of her that he had in his head. The image of her as she used to be, five years previously. He was about to tell her, once again, to leave, but then he heard someone behind him.

"I've got a job for you," said a voice, so quiet that it may as well have not been speaking. Jackson and Jacqueline both looked at the speaker, surprised. Both of them were far more surprised when they realized that the speaker was none other than Vincent.

* * *

"Hey," Lisa said to Leya as she walked through the center. The younger girl was just emerging from her room, yawning. 

"Hey," Leya replied, sounding surprised. "You're up early."

"Five o'clock? Oh please, that's nothing," Lisa said, grinning. "I was looking for Jackson. Have you seen him?"

"Jackson?" Leya asked with a snort. "That bastard's probably still sleeping. Never gets up before ten."

"I knocked on the door, though," Lisa said. "He didn't answer."

"Sleeping," Leya said, shrugging. "Don't worry about it. If he's not sleeping, he's probably just off with Vincent somewhere. Like having sex in the bathroom or something. Nothing either of us wants to see."

"Jackson and Vincent having sex in the bathroom?" asked Scarlett, appearing suddenly, seemingly from thin air. "I'd watch."

"We know _you _would," Leya said, rolling her eyes. Lisa chuckled slightly.

"Well come on, they're _clearly_ the two hottest guys in the complex," Scarlett said, shrugging. "Wouldn't you want to see that?"

"Not really," Lisa said. Leya just shrugged. Scarlett sighed and leaned against the wall facing them.

"I'm going to make you break out of your shell a little," she said decisively to Lisa. "You've been around us for three months now, and you're still all…I don't know, conservative. You don't talk about things, because you think it's like wrong or something. Like I bet that if I said 'masturbation' you would blush."

Lisa blushed.

"You know my parents," she said in reply, ducking her head a little bit to hide the red flush in her cheeks that was fortunately quickly receding.

"I can only imagine how you grew up," Scarlett said sadly, shaking her head. "It must have been so hard."

Lisa and Leya both laughed, and Scarlett smiled at them. Lisa thought it was interesting how usually people in Lisa's position would be the ones saying that it was hard for Scarlett, but the tables were turned. And Lisa had to admit that they were turned for a good reason. They had both had wonderful upbringings by people who were good and kind and taught them everything they knew. It just so happened that the man who taught and loved Scarlett had been a glorified hit man.

"I'm just…I don't know, it takes a while to get used to this kind of thing," Lisa said defensively. "This kind of life, I mean. I've kind of accepted the whole murder thing…"

"Hey, hey," Scarlett said, holding up a finger. "It's not _murder_. It's helping out the world in a non-conventional way."

"It's murder," Leya said, yawning and putting a hand over her mouth. "Murder for good reasons, yes. But still murder."

"Well murder for the right reasons is good enough for me," Scarlett said, shrugging. "I have no problem with the way I live."

"Neither do I," Lisa said quickly. "That's what I'm saying. I've learned to accept that about this place, and I've stopped letting it get to me. But other things, like how open you guys are about everything. That's the stuff that's going to take a long while to accept."

"Yeah, well, you'll be around us a lot in the next few days," Scarlett said with a small laugh, the bitterness in it clear.

"As of now, I have no other place to go, even when this is all cleared up," Lisa said quietly, looking down at the ground briefly.

"Yeah," Scarlett said with a sigh. "I know. But…you know, don't worry about it. Jackson will get you another apartment. A better one, knowing him."

"Or maybe he'll just make you stay here," Leya said with a smirk. "God knows you could do it. The Lux isn't all that far from here."

"Yeah, after this, he probably isn't going to want you out of his sight," Scarlett said. She looked at Lisa sympathetically. "Sorry."

"What makes you say that?" Lisa asked with a snort. "Honestly, I think these people are making a huge deal out of nothing. Jackson and I aren't even really involved or anything. If they wanted to go after someone, why wouldn't they go after Vincent? Or Brian?"

"No one outside even knows about Brian being Jackson's father," Scarlett said pointedly. "And Vincent's too tricky. Face it, you're the closest thing he's got to a lover, and we always go after those first."

Lisa looked at Scarlett, making a slightly disgusted face.

"My tolerance only extends so far," she muttered.

"See, you're his lover," Scarlett said, noting that Lisa didn't deny that.

"I am _not_," Lisa said indignantly. "But I know I'm the closest thing he has to one."

"The security cameras in the hall outside your room say otherwise," Leya muttered under her breath. Lisa turned bright red and looked at Leya with a look of horror on her face. Scarlett looked intrigued.

"_What_?" she asked in a whispered tone, her eyes widening and a bright smile spreading across her face.

"Leya!" Lisa exclaimed. "What were you doing looking at the security cameras?"

"Like there was anything better to do!" Leya said, snorting. "And really, I just _happened _to be in there. Me and Joe were hiding from Tom, and we happened to duck into the second level security room. And there you were."

"There she was?" Scarlett asked, her smile getting bigger.

"Yeah, and she wasn't alone, either," Leya said, snickering.

"Lisa!" Scarlett exclaimed, laughing with excitement. "God, _finally_."

"I'm not sure if it even means anything," Lisa said, though she allowed a small smile. "I haven't talked to him yet today."

"Like I said, probably still sleeping," Leya said offhand. "But definitely talk to him. Scarlett and Vincent need some cutest couple competition."

Scarlett laughed, though it was clear that the comment pleased her. She even ducked her head a little, and Lisa would have bet anything that it was to hide the blush that was no doubt creeping its way across her face.

Lisa started to say something when she saw Jackson across the center, walking across it with an angry and unsettled gait to his step that Lisa recognized all too well. Behind him a few steps walked Vincent and a woman who Lisa didn't know. When Jackson saw her, he stopped abruptly in surprise, then realized what he was doing and walked over to her, looking uncertain.

"What are you doing up already?" he asked.

"I'm used to getting up this early," she said simply. "Leya thought you were still sleeping…"

"We got Dave," Jackson said before she could say anything else. He bit his lip slightly as he always seemed to do when he was thinking. "He's being held right now."

"Are you going to question him?"

"Yes," Jackson said.

"Not just kill him?"

"No," Jackson replied, shaking his head. It was clear that he had had some time to think after his initial discovery of Dave's betrayal. Lisa thought that it was maybe the liquor that had done it. Alcohol seemed to make Jackson appear more like a human being than he ever did sober.

"Can I come?" Lisa asked, surprising even herself. She didn't know why she had asked the question; she didn't _want _to see a man tortured for her sake. At the same time, though, she wanted to be there when Dave spoke so she would know that Jackson and Vincent weren't hiding anything from her, as they often seemed to do.

Jackson seemed just as surprised at the question as Lisa did. Slowly, he nodded.

"If you want to," he said, his answer surprising in itself. Usually he would at least argue it out with her, even if he knew he was going to let her get away with it eventually. "I warn you, it's not going to be something enjoyable."

"I know," Lisa said simply. Jackson nodded and turned to say something to Vincent. Vincent, however, had moved over towards Scarlett and was talking to her in low tones as Scarlett shot very obvious glares at the new woman. Jackson sighed and turned back to Lisa to say something, but then the new woman stepped forward, smiling pleasantly.

"I'm sorry," she said to Jackson in a tone that hinted that sorry was probably one of the last things she was feeling at that moment. "But did I just hear you say that you're actually going to let her go to the interrogation?"

Jackson's eyes briefly flashed; a sure sign that he was highly annoyed or extremely saddened. In this case, it was most likely the former.

"Yes," he said simply. "And, Jacqueline…I'd appreciate it if you _didn't _get involved."

"I'm not sure if that's a good idea, though," the woman in question, Jacqueline, said. "Interrogation isn't something you want to watch."

Lisa looked at the woman with confusion written on her face. She had certainly never seen her before, and she didn't know of anyone in the complex by the name of Jacqueline. Looking at the other woman, she immediately felt the seeds of jealousy springing in her. She was tall and slim and blonde, and looked like she should have been a model, rather than an underground crime citizen. Thinking of what she must have looked like at that moment, dressed in such casual clothes next to the other woman's impressive outfit, Lisa felt a stab of bitterness.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" she asked in the most polite tone she could manage, though she certainly wasn't feeling very polite at the moment. She didn't like the other woman's tone; as if she wasn't strong enough to deal with whatever happened in that interrogation room.

"This is Jacqueline Regan," Jackson said. "She's starting a job here."

"I didn't know you had 'jobs'," Lisa said, confused. She had thought that everyone in the complex was in there either because Jimmy had raised them, or because they had been invited by someone who Jimmy had raised. She hadn't been aware that there were jobs that one could apply for. It seemed a little suspicious to her. Especially in the way Jacqueline was looking at her smugly.

"I'm an old friend," the other woman said, smiling at Jackson. Lisa hadn't seen that kind of smile since Ben. The shark-like smile that seemed to imply that she was up to something that Lisa wouldn't like very much.

Lisa looked from Jacqueline to Jackson, and then glanced at Leya, who was staring at Jacqueline with a look of complete distaste on her face. Something was definitely going on. Jacqueline's smug smile seemed to say 'I know something you don't', and it was pissing Lisa off.

"I want to come," she said firmly. "I've seen enough to know that it isn't going to be _enjoyable_, but I want to be involved."

"You can come," Jackson said soothingly, putting a hand on her shoulder. He looked her in the eye firmly. "But are you _sure _you want to?"

"Positive," Lisa answered. Jackson nodded, examining her proudly. She never failed to impress him with her courage.

"All right," he said. "Let's go,"

Much to Lisa's happiness, he took her hand and started leading her down the hallway. Jacqueline followed, looking annoyed.

"Lisa!" Scarlett exclaimed suddenly from where she was still standing with Vincent. He slunk away when Scarlett called for Lisa, and soon he had disappeared into the small but growing crowd off people gathered in the center. "I need you for a few more seconds. You can meet up with them there."

Jackson looked reluctant; his expression conveyed that he didn't want to let Lisa out of his sight. After a moment, however, he nodded slowly. Lisa took her hand back, disappointed, and walked towards Scarlett with an expression of total anger on her face. Jackson and Jacqueline continued walking. As soon as they were far enough away, Scarlett hurried forward and grabbed Lisa's hand.

"You'll thank me later," she said, and then she pulled Lisa into the nearest room.


	5. It's Not Her Fault That She's So

Blech, I'm in a rather poor mood, so I figured that I'd update.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and please remember to review again!

**Tes:** Ahhhh your review quite honestly made my day. Thank you for taking the time to write all that and tell me honestly what you think. It made me especially happy when I read that you thought my writing had improved between A Beautiful Lie and now, because that's really been one of my greatest goals; to improve myself. Also, the fact that you like this story as a story and not just as an 'omg lizaxjackson' fic really makes me happy too, because I've tried hard to take at least a little of the focus off of the canon characters, and I've tried to ease the reader into the world of the complex because their stories are just as interesting as the Lisa and Jackson stories, I believe. Thank you so much for reviewing!

**Gladys Bagg: **hehehe yup, kisses and jealousy are always good :D Thanks for reviewing!

**Lorelle: **hahaha I like the description of Harrison as a lil lost lamb. I can definitely see that! And I love the idea of Red Eye: The TV series with Scarlett and Jackson having their chemistry ;). Hahaha, they definitely are open about everything. I was a sheltered child, too, until last year when I met this kid who is now one of my best friend not to mention my love interest for the past year and a half. He really made me so much less shy. In the beginning, I couldn't even tell him he was 'cute'. Now, we fool around and make jokes about pretty risqué stuff. For example, he's a senior and is graduating in like 2 weeks (ahhh!) and he's going to Mount Ida college in Newton, which isn't that far from here. So I was saying I'd visit him and bring him food, and I called myself the 'pizza girl'. So he went 'ooo pizza girl sex ;)' and I went along with it. Last year, I would have been so embarrassed by that. I wanted Scarlett and Vincent and Jackson to be like that for Lisa, kind of a way for her to open up so she'll be able to face all the hardships she's going to come across in this story. Hehe, and there will be some rather tough hardships! Thanks for reviewing!

**Joelle: **hahaha yep, it's Red Eye: The soap opera! I agree that Lisa needs to get someone in the sack. And I also agree that it should be Jackson ;). I hope you did good on your AP test! Thanks for reviewing!

* * *

**Chapter 5: **It's Not Her Fault That She's So Irresistible

**It's not her fault that she's so irresistible**  
But all the damage she's caused isn't fixable  
Every twenty seconds you repeat her name  
But when it comes to me you don't care  
if I'm alive or dead

So objection I don't wanna be the exception  
To get a bit of your attention  
I love you for free and I'm not your mother  
But you don't even bother

Objection I'm tired of this triangle  
Got dizzy dancing tango  
I'm falling apart in your hands again  
No way I've got to get away

Next to her cheap silicon I look minimal  
That's why in front of your eyes I'm invisible  
But you gotta know small things also count  
You better put your feet on the ground  
And see what it's about

Objection I don't wanna be the exception  
To get a bit of your attention  
I love you for free and I'm not your mother  
But you don't even bother

Objection I'm tired of this triangle  
Got dizzy dancing tango  
I'm falling apart in your hands again  
No way I've got to get away

I wish there was a chance for you and me  
I wish you couldn't find a place to be  
Away from here

This is pathetic and sardonic  
It's sadistic and psychotic  
Tango is not for three  
Was never meant to be

But you can try it  
Rehearse it  
Or train like a horse  
But don't you count on me  
Don't you count on me boy

Objection I don't wanna be the exception  
To get a bit of your attention  
I love you for free and I'm not your mother  
But you don't even bother

Objection I'm tired of this triangle  
Got dizzy dancing tango  
I'm falling apart in your hands again  
No way I've got to get away

Objection  
Shakira

* * *

"What are you doing?" Lisa asked, looking around the room that Scarlett had pulled them into, thankful that the occupants of the room weren't present at the moment.

"This is a problem," Scarlett replied, putting her hands to her forehead and running them through her long brown hair. Lisa stared at her.

"What?" she asked. "What's a problem? The Dave thing?"

"No," Scarlett said, as if Lisa was an idiot for suggesting it. "The Jacqueline Regan thing."

"Why, who is she?" Lisa asked, already dreading the answer.

"She used to live here," Scarlett said. "I hated her _so_ much. She was always a bitch, and she was definitely a prostitute, though I don't think that was ever proven."

"_Used_ to live here?" Lisa asked, sounding surprised. "If she doesn't live here, why is she here?"

"Jimmy kicked her out years ago," Scarlett said, waving her hand dismissively. "He hated her attitude, the way she chose to act with the other men…everything. I think he hated her more than he hated himself. And you knew Jimmy; that was bad."

Lisa nodded slowly. Though the older man certainly hadn't shown outwardly that he wasn't fond of himself, she had heard the stories from Jackson and the men, and knew of Jimmy's self-loathing all too well.

"So why is she back?" Lisa asked, slightly confused.

"She wants a job," Scarlett said.

"And Jackson gave her one?" Lisa asked dubiously. She couldn't honestly see Jackson doing anything that Jimmy would have so strongly opposed, had he still been alive.

"No," Scarlett said with a heavy sigh. "Jackson wanted to turn her away. It was Vincent."

Lisa was even more surprised to hear that bit of news. Vincent going against Jackson was usually reserved for the little things. On the big decisions, they always worked together, though since Jackson tended to be more persuasive than Vincent, it usually ended with Jackson's idea being the one they followed.

"And Jackson was okay with that?"

"He wasn't happy," Scarlett said, snorting derisively. "But he was miraculously tame, considering."

Lisa looked at Scarlett warily.

"There's more to this story than you're telling me, isn't there?" she asked. Scarlett sighed and nodded, running a hand through her hair.

"A fair amount," she said. "I think you deserve to know, and Vincent agrees, and we all know that Jackson isn't going to be the one to tell you…"

"Scarlett, tell me what?" Lisa interrupted calmly. Scarlett sighed.

"Lisa…Jackson and Jacqueline used to, to put it delicately, fuck around."

Lisa was silent for a few moments, looking at Scarlett.

"That's putting it delicately?" she asked, making a face and attempting not to laugh. Scarlett looked at her with frustration.

"Lisa!" she exclaimed. "Did you not understand what I just said?"

"So they used to be involved. So what? You and Jackson, remember…?"

"That was one time," Scarlett said defensively. "Jackson and Jacqueline went on for a long time."

"What happened to them?" Lisa asked. "Why aren't they together anymore?"

Scarlett shrugged with an expression that said 'it's anyone's guess'.

"I don't know anything more than you do," she said. "He walked out of here that day, still with her. Ten years later, he came back. But he was with you."

"So why is she a problem?" Lisa asked, trying to stay calm though inside she was starting to feel her insides twist a little. Annoyed, she tried to convince herself that she shouldn't care, since all she and Jackson had done was kiss a few times; and what was a kiss or two between friends? Still, she couldn't help but feel slightly betrayed by the fact that Jacqueline was there.

"Besides the fact that she's a total bitch and probably wants Jackson back more than she wants a job? Just the fact that I don't trust her. At all. In fact, no one does."

"Well obviously Vincent does, if he offered her a job," Lisa said, trying to calm Scarlett down."

"No," Scarlett said, shaking her head. "Vincent's concern is with protecting this place from the police and other organizations out to get us. He doesn't trust her with the information that she has about the place, so he wants to keep her on a short leash. He offered her a real simple job; nothing with any real quantity of access. She won't be able to turn any information over to anyone that way. Still, I don't trust her. I know her better than a lot of people here, and I know she is a vicious person. Always was and always will be. She'll do anything, and I mean _anything _to get what she wants."

Lisa looked at Scarlett curiously.

"Wait, are you trying to tell me that she's the one who's been trying to kill me?"

"I don't know," Scarlett said in a calmer tone, sensing that Lisa was getting upset. "But I wouldn't rule it out."

"Did you talk to Vincent about that?"

"I didn't have time to," Scarlett said, shaking her head. "But I will, first chance I get. I'll make sure he presents the idea to Jackson."

"Do you think he'll listen?" Lisa asked, biting her lip. Scarlett looked at her seriously, and Lisa knew that the answer she was about to get was going to be a very honest answer, not having any regard for her feelings or her ego.

"I don't know," she said. "He cared about Jacqueline a lot. And, I'm afraid he might still care about her. We don't know what happened. It all depends on the reason for their splitting up." She gave Lisa a sympathetic look. "I'm really sorry that all this had to happen."

Lisa nodded and was about to say something when suddenly the door opened and a young man and woman walked in, laughing. When they saw Scarlett and Lisa standing in the center of the room, they stopped and stared at the two intruding women, surprise written on their faces.

"Oh look, here you are," Scarlett said, laughing. "Come on, Lisa. Time to go."

Scarlett grabbed Lisa by the hand and pulled her out of the room, closing the door behind them and moving off into the center. Lisa felt that it was probably a good idea to just keep walking and not ask any questions.

They kept walking, pushing through the crowd of people silently. They reached the business hallway, and walked inside, closing the door behind and shutting out the noise of the center. The business hallway was long and dark; not many people were in the back rooms. Lisa had only been in one of the rooms, and she had never realized just how long the hallway was. It continued on for at least a few minutes before they reached a set of stairs. They walked down the stairs, past the floor where Lisa had received her first shooting lessons, past the floor of the parking garage, and finally to the lowest level of the complex.

Lisa had never been down to the lowest level, though Jackson had talked about it once. He said that whenever they caught someone snooping too close to the complex, or if they thought someone was a problem, then they would bring them down into 'the pit'. It was an underground prison of sorts, where everything was made of concrete. Looking around it, Lisa wondered not for the first time how someone had ever built such a massive underground maze of a building.

Scarlett didn't let go of Lisa's hand as they walked down the main hallway. There was a guard a little ways down it, and he waved them through when he saw who they were. They walked swiftly down until the corridor branched off in five different directions. Scarlett took the far left route, and then walked for a little while before she took a left again. Lisa hoped that she wasn't expected to know where they were; the walls all looked completely the same.

Finally, they reached a door near the end of one hallway. Scarlett knocked on it quietly. It opened to reveal Vincent standing there. He nodded to them and moved aside to let them in.

The room they walked into was dimly lit, with walls made of concrete. Jacqueline stood in the center of it, her arms folded across her chest as she watched something. Lisa looked where she was looking and saw that there was a large panel of glass in the wall, revealing another room. The other room was bare, with only one chair. The chair was currently occupied by a very terrified-looking Dave, and Jackson. Though they couldn't hear what he was saying, he looked extremely angry.

"He's questioning him," Vincent said to Lisa. "This is the easy part. If he's smart, he'll tell us what we need to know." He sighed and shook his head. "I hope he's smart."

"He won't tell," Scarlett muttered, shaking her head. "Maybe once Jackson starts hurting him, but not before that."

"You're supposed to agree with me," Vincent muttered. Scarlett sighed and moved firmly in between Jacqueline and Lisa. Jacqueline smiled at Scarlett with a look that didn't look very friendly at all.

"Scarlett Carver," she said sarcastically, smirking. "I remember you."

"I should hope so," Scarlett replied with boredom, focusing on Jackson and Dave in the other room.

"You always were hanging off Vincent," Jacqueline said, shaking her head with mock sadness. "And he was always brushing you off. It was pathetic then, but now? It's even more so."

Vincent looked like he was about to defend himself, but then he slowly closed his mouth, knowing that it probably wasn't a good idea to get in the middle of two women fighting.

"Brushing me off?" Scarlett laughed, turning to look at Jacqueline at last, her hands placed firmly on her hips. "You call that brushing me off? Trust me. He does anything but brush me off. More than I can say about you and Jackson when you were still going at it. Used you for sex, didn't like to talk to you in public…sounds like pathetic to me."

"You have no idea what me and Jackson were about," Jacqueline said angrily, making the classic mistake of letting someone rattle her. Scarlett smiled inwardly. She knew that as soon as someone started getting rattled, she automatically had the upper hand.

"I think everyone in the goddamned complex knew what you two were about," Scarlett said with a chuckle. "Sex. Lots of it. Bad sex, too, if you ask Vincent."

Vincent suddenly found the noiseless interrogation in the other room very interesting.

"Jackson loved me," Jacqueline said in a low tone, almost growling at Scarlett. "Jackson _still_ loves me."

"Oh? He loves you?" Scarlett asked. "Then what do you call Lisa? He has risked his life more times than I can count to save hers. I seem to remember a little incident called the Tampa Job where you were in danger and Jackson left you."

Jacqueline was about to respond angrily, but Vincent interjected before she could.

"Shit," he muttered, leaning forward and pressing his palms against the window. Everyone looked. Jackson was leaning into Dave's face, shouting something. Then, he lunged at him. Vincent ran to the door to the right of the window, which separated the two rooms from one another and threw it open. Instantly, the room was filled with shouts. Lisa ran to the door, bracing her hands against the doorjamb and leaning into the room, as if afraid to enter. Vincent pulled Jackson away from Dave and started talking to him quietly in a stern tone. Jackson nodded, obviously annoyed. Vincent sighed and turned to Dave, who was sitting in his chair, looking like a frightened rabbit.

"Maybe we should wait a few hours," Vincent said tiredly. "Or maybe we'll get someone else to do it…"

"Two hours," Jackson muttered angrily. He turned and started walking towards the door, and then saw Lisa watching. She looked at him sadly, as if trying to read his every emotion. She wanted to ask him right then and there if he really did love Jacqueline, but she couldn't. His eyes, as always, had a blank wall around them, and she couldn't tell what he was thinking. Then again, she never could.

He walked towards her, making a face and running a hand through his hair. She stepped completely into the room, looking at him with disappointment.

"He's your friend," she reminded him quietly. "He's been your friend the whole time you've been here. You can't just treat him like that because of this."

"Any attempt on your life is an attempt on this organization, and it probably goes deeper than what we can see on the surface," Jackson replied robotically. Lisa looked at him, surprised. He sounded so stiff and formal, not at all like the Jackson she had become used to. She turned and looked over her shoulder on an impulse and saw that Jacqueline was listening in on their conversation. Turning back to Jackson, she felt anger rising in her.

"I see," she said shortly. "Well then how about you guys take care of this, and I'll take Basil and go to work."

"Lisa," Jackson said warningly, but Lisa just turned and walked out into the connected room. Scarlett nodded to her sympathetically and shoved past Jacqueline roughly, her chin in the air as she followed Lisa out into the hallway. Lisa walked gracefully out, her posture commanding respect. Scarlett, however, stormed to the door, then turned and glared at Jackson, her mouth turned up in a sneer.

"You need to think about things," she said simply, her tone one of disgust. Before Jackson could say anything, she had breezed out the doorway, and she was gone.

Vincent walked back into the room, looking from Jackson to Jacqueline and looking extremely uncomfortable.

"What was that all about?" Jacqueline asked, turning to Jackson with a hurt expression. "There's something between you and that girl, isn't there. What was her name, again?"

"Her name is Lisa," Jackson answered. He looked at Vincent, then back down at the ground. "Nothing's going on."

He looked up from the ground and happened to catch Vincent's eye. His friend looked more disappointed than Jackson could ever remember him looking. He shook his head at Jackson with a hint of disgust on his face, and then he too turned and walked out of the room.

"Scarlett said that you love her," Jacqueline said gently. "Do you?"

Jackson looked up at her, surprised that she didn't seem mad or annoyed or threatening. She seemed surprisingly normal, in fact, as if the matter wasn't one of any personal interest at all.

"Love is a very strong word," Jackson said, deciding that it was best to keep as many answers from her as possible. He remembered, above everything else, how much of a gossip hound his former lover was.

"You loved me, didn't you?" Jacqueline asked. You never told me you did, but I always assumed…"

She trailed off, waiting for Jackson to answer. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"That's the past, Jacqueline," he said simply. "No use going back to what we've already lived."

"I see," Jacqueline said quietly, looking disappointed. She examined him thoughtfully and shook her head. "You've changed, Jackson. That organization did it to you, didn't it?"

"No," Jackson said shortly. "Growing up did it to me, Jacqueline."

Without another word, nor a backwards glance, he swiftly left the room.

* * *

Outside the complex, Scarlett drove out into the road with Lisa in the passenger seat and two bodyguards in the back. One was Basil, and the other was Mike. Mike was older than Basil, though no one could really tell exactly how old. He had balding reddish hair and had a distinct southern accent when he spoke. At the moment, however, he was not talking, but sitting quietly and waiting for his orders. That was partly the reason that Scarlett had taken Mike along; he was easily the most reliable guy in the business. He hadn't done anything particularly spectacular for a while, but he was a good agent, and he never let anyone down. Even Jackson trusted him, and Jackson didn't trust many people.

"He's not gonna like this," Basil said decisively to Lisa. She turned and looked at him.

"I don't care what Jackson likes," she said shortly. "If he didn't want me to leave, he should have stopped me."

Basil bowed his head in submission; he knew she was right. Jackson should have done something to prevent her from leaving the complex. Basil didn't know much about women, but he knew that they liked to have some sign that their man cared about them. Jackson apparently hadn't gotten that memo.

"There's a high threat of attack," Basil said gently to her.

"I know," Lisa said, and then she turned and faced the front again.

"That's where we come in," Scarlett said, grinning.

* * *

Leya slipped on a pair of her sunglasses and walked quickly out to the garage, playing with the olive green strap of her messenger bag before shoving her hands into the pockets of her large black jacket. _Get in the car. Drive to the Lux. Get in the car. Drive to the Lux. Don't tell _anyone_. Don't even look at anyone…_

"Leya!" yelled a voice from back in the complex, echoing off the complex. She turned and saw Joe Peterson jogging towards her, out of breath.

"What is it?" she asked, annoyed.

"Lisa's gone," Joe answered, as she supposed he would. "She left with Scarlett, Basil, and we think Mike. Jackson wants you to get us over to the Lux, right now to try and get her to come back."

"What's _he_ doing?" Leya asked, frowning.

"Him and Jacqueline are having a talk," Joe said, rolling his eyes. He knew as well as Leya did that there was something messed up about that whole thing.

"Fuck this," Leya growled under her breath, turning and walking back towards the complex. "If he thinks I'm going to sit back and let him destroy his relationship with Lisa just because some blonde hussy shows up and thinks he's her man, he's got another thing coming."

Joe watched her storm towards the complex doors, her jaw set in determination and a dark, evil glint in her eyes. Shaking his head slightly, he smiled with admiration. Standing up to Jackson Rippner took some guts. He certainly didn't have the balls to do it.

He jogged after her quickly, leaving the echoing garage behind.

* * *

Lisa, Scarlett, Mike, and Basil arrived at the Lux a bit later. Lisa had, on the way, changed into one of Scarlett's business suits, and was just finishing straightening her hair. Looking at her, no one could have ever guessed what was going on inside her head.

"I'm going to have to deal with everything about the fire," she said, rolling her eyes. "I lost a lot of stuff that I'm going to need for work. Come in a few minutes apart. Scarlett, you come with me."

Scarlett and Lisa disappeared into the building. Mike turned to Basil.

"Jackson's going to kill us when he finds out about this," he said.

"Lisa had a point." Basil pointed out. "If he wanted her to stay, he should have stopped her. He didn't."

"He's got a lot on his mind," Mike said sympathetically. "Do you remember how him and Jacqueline were at first?"

"Yeah, I remember," Basil said, rolling his eyes. "Always all over each other in public. It was disgusting."

"They were in love," Mike corrected.

"I don't think Jackson Rippner can love," Basil said with a snort.

"Then why is he making you protect this woman?" Mike asked pointedly. "Why is he putting so much effort into keeping her safe? I think there's more to his feelings than you think there is. I think he can love. I think he's loving right now. The only question is, does he realize it?"

* * *

"I never forgave myself for making you leave," Jacqueline said quietly, looking down at the ground and wringing her hands together. She and Jackson were seated across from each other in Jackson's office, which had once been Jimmy's office. She rubbed a hand absently along her calf. Jackson tried to keep his eyes off her legs. She had always had amazing legs.

"I left because you became insufferable," Jackson reminded her coldly.

"I know," Jacqueline said, sighing heavily. "But after you left, I did some serious readjustments."

"I can tell," Jackson said with a snort, looking her over before realizing that she might take that the wrong way. Judging by the look in her eyes, that was exactly what she had gone and done. She smiled a little, appearing filled with self-satisfaction. She thought all hope for a rekindling of their 'romance' (if you could even call it that) wasn't dashed after all. And really, was it? Jackson wasn't sure. And that scared him.

Before he had a chance to say anything else, the door flew open. He jumped up with surprise; he thought he had locked it. Then, he saw that Leya stood in the doorway, holding a key. He didn't know where she had gotten it, but it didn't surprise him in the slightest that she had managed to obtain one.

"What are you doing?" he asked her with annoyance in his voice. "Didn't you see Joe?"

Joe stepped out from behind the doorframe, biting his lip with nervousness. Jackson looked from Joe to Leya with confusion.

"I'm not going, Jackson," Leya said stubbornly, folding her hands over her chest. She glanced at Jacqueline, disgust registering on her features. "You want to protect Lisa, go do it yourself. You're sitting here, chit-chatting away with your ex, while Lisa could be out there getting killed, for Christ's sake! You really think she would listen to me if I told her to come home? There's no way in hell. But you? Yeah, she'd listen to you, because all she wants is for you to show that you care."

"I'm busy," Jackson said simply. Leya's face flushed a deep scarlet color, and Jackson knew he had hit the mark.

"Bull_shit_," she growled in a louder volume, practically shouting at him, now. "You aren't _fucking_ busy you stupid asshole! Son of a bitch, you're just over here verbally copulating with the fucking village bicycle because you think she's fucking changed. Well guess what? Three months ago she was arrested for drunk driving. There is viable proof from two weeks ago that she whored herself out for _cocaine_. Three days ago, she was found in the bed of a prominent Miami lawyer who admitted that he paid her to have sex with him. Now _how _in the name of all that is good and holy has that fucking _slut_ over there changed a _bit_?"

There was a deafening silence following Leya's words. Jackson rose slowly and looked at Jacqueline with surprise and disbelief written on his face. Jacqueline was staring at Leya with contempt.

"You're a brave little girl to be making all those accusations," she said, growling under her breath.

"Legal information isn't hard to get, if you're me," Leya said shortly in reply, turning to face her completely. Joe and Jackson each backed up a step, looking confused. They weren't sure exactly what was going on, but they knew it would be important.

"Illegally obtained, no doubt?" Jacqueline asked, narrowing her eyes at the much younger woman.

"What the hell else would it be?" Leya asked with disdain, looking at Jacqueline as if _she _were the young, impetuous troublemaker. "In case you hadn't noticed, we're not exactly by the book here. And last time I checked, prostitution wasn't legal either."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Jacqueline said, looking down on Leya from her considerable height. Leya's back straightened out, and she raised her chin. She may have not been as tall as the other woman, but she had far more presence. Her confidence was astounding, Jackson noticed, and he wondered what had caused such a rise in the girl. Judging by the way she had shouted at him, though, it wasn't by any positive motivation on his part.

"Leya, please," he said gently. "Let's just calm down, okay? I don't see your proof of these allegations."

"Looked them up when I found out she was here," Leya said simply, not taking her eyes of Jacqueline. "Do you really fucking think I would spend _my _time doing something and then not get the proof? Please, Jackson, tell me you're not that far blinded by this bitch."

"Jackson, please," Jacqueline said, looking to Jackson for help. Jackson looked at Leya sternly.

"Leya," he said warningly. "Please do what I told you."

"You know, in case you hadn't noticed…you're not my fucking father," Leya retorted angrily. "And you're not my fucking boss, either. You don't tell me what to do. And right now, I don't think you're in a position to even _suggest _that I do something. Because you may have just made the biggest fucking mistake of your life; letting Lisa go out there. She needs you now more than she ever did, and you're gonna let this pair of legs take away everything that you've shared with Lisa for three months. Your choice, but I'd have to say that if I were you, it would be no contest."

Just in case it wasn't totally obvious already what her choice would be, she gave Jacqueline another once-over of disgust. Jackson looked from Leya to Jacqueline, looking almost comically confused. It would have been comical, anyway, if Leya had been feeling even the slightest bit of humor at that moment.

"Leya, come on," Joe said quietly, sensing that Jackson was doing something very stupid and wanting to save him from the wrath of his friend. He knew what she got like when she was mad, and he knew that he wouldn't want to be in Jackson's position.

"Hold on a second," Leya said absently, striding towards Jackson purposefully. "Now you listen to me, and you listen real good, asswipe." If Jackson felt any surprise at the venom in her voice (which, admittedly, he did), he didn't let it show. "I'm going. I'm going to tell Lisa to get back here because I care about her. I care about her a fuckload more than I care about you and your stupid whore here. I care about her because she's my friend and because she doesn't deserve _any _of this. Now, I'm gonna say what we all wanna say, right now, but can't because we all want to shelter you from the truth. You ready for this? It's _your fucking fault_ that she's here. It's your fucking fault that she had to go through any of the shit that you put her through. And now, at the point where your handiwork just may cost her the most out of anything, you turn your back on her and let her out to face _your _enemies alone? You're fucking scum, Jackson. Scum."

With that, she turned on her heel, her blonde hair swirling behind her, and she walked out the door. Joe hung back for a few seconds, looking like he wanted to say something, but then he just turned and walked after her, closing the door gently behind him.

"Who was that?" Jacqueline asked, enraged. "What was she, fifteen? And you let her talk to you like that?"

"That was Leya," Jackson said quietly, surprisingly calm. "I happen to value her opinion very much, Jacqueline."

"You don't seriously believe her, do you?" Jacqueline asked, suddenly sounding very frightened. Jackson sighed and shrugged. He didn't know. However, he _did _know that he had to go after Lisa. Everything was very clear.

"I don't know," he answered Jacqueline. "But I have to go help her."

"Leya?" Jacqueline spat.

"Lisa," Jackson replied. "She was right, Jacqueline. All of this _is _my fault. I need to help her."

Running a hand through his hair distractedly, Jackson walked towards the door quickly.

"Hold on," Jacqueline said sharply. Jackson turned to face her with annoyance.

"Jacqueline…" he started wearily, but she didn't give him a chance to finish.

"You need to listen to me," she said, in the same tone that Leya had used only a few seconds earlier. "Jackson, you don't know the half of what they're trying to do to you."

Jackson froze, suddenly remembering that the only reason he had agreed to let Jacqueline in was because she said she had information on the people who were threatening Lisa. He had completely forgotten about that.

"What do you know?" he asked urgently.

"The man I slept with," she said, bowing her head slightly as if the thought embarrassed her. As if she had any modesty; any morals. Jackson almost laughed at the thought. "He was on the phone…he thought I was asleep. I wasn't listening, but I heard him mention your name. He said that someone was going after 'the girl'. I wasn't really sure at the time who that was, but I can only assume that it was that Lisa woman who you're all so concerned with. He said that once she was out of the way, they would take out Scarlett Carver, then someone named Harrison Dixon, and then Vincent, before finally going after you."

"Me?" Jackson asked, surprised. "I thought this was about Paradise. Why wouldn't they go after Vincent last?"

"I don't think this is about the complex after all," Jacqueline answered. "Though if this man and the people he works with have their way, the complex will be in serious trouble."

"Shit," Jackson swore, slamming his hand on the table, putting his other one to his forehead and closing his eyes, as he always did when he had to think very hard about something.

"I think the best thing to do would be to go get her," Jacqueline said slowly, obviously thinking hard herself. "And get everyone back here. Once everyone is safe, you need to talk to them. Tell them what to expect. And you should probably give that Leya girl a list of people who could possibly have a great enough reason to come after you."

"That's a little harder than you might think," Jackson groaned. Jacqueline smiled slightly.

"Yeah," she said. "I know. But you have to. Go get her."

Jackson nodded and hurried out of the room. Jacqueline sat down in the chair, putting her head in her hands and squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to work everything through her head.

* * *

"Why is she here again?" Cynthia hissed in Lisa's ear as the two of them bent over the coffee table. Lisa glanced over at Scarlett, who was leaning against the front desk in a very revealing professional suit. As they watched, she winked at a passing elderly man, who smiled and winked back before scurrying away. Scarlett laughed to herself at her own private joke. Lisa turned back to Cynthia.

"She's not as bad as she seems," she said with a smirk.

"I'm sure," Cynthia replied, rolling her eyes.

"Hey," Lisa said warningly. "Watch it. She's my friend."

"The one who kills people?" Cynthia asked. Lisa sighed, and suddenly realized that she had sounded exactly like Cynthia only three months before when she was arguing with Jackson about his stupid job. She couldn't believe she had ever felt that way. Though it wasn't exactly the most desirable of professions, certainly, it was justifiable, in a weird way.

"You'll get it eventually," she said, instead of trying to explain it to her. "If you spend enough time with her."

"I don't really know if I want to," Cynthia said, looking over at Scarlett with something like nervousness. Lisa almost laughed, but refrained from doing so.

"Suit yourself," she said instead, shrugging and moving over to Scarlett with two coffees in her hands. Scarlett smiled and took one of them, inhaling the intoxicating the aroma and smiling blissfully.

"Ah, nothing like a morning coffee to get you started," she said. "Cheers, Leese."

If Lisa was bothered by the use of the nickname that was usually reserved only for her father or Jackson, she didn't let on. She just nodded and took a sip of her coffee. Cynthia sidled over, trying to escape Scarlett's notice. Scarlett let her believe that she had.

"So, what do I have to do?" Scarlett asked Lisa, smiling.

"Oh, you don't have to do anything," Cynthia said quickly, apparently forgetting that she was trying to avoid Scarlett. The look of horror on her petite face explained why. "Really, just let me and Lisa take care of everything."

Scarlett didn't appear to notice that Cynthia seemed appalled at the very idea. She just smiled.

"Thanks," she said. "I really have no clue how to do anything anyway."

She laughed, apparently finding this funny. Cynthia laughed uncomfortably and took another sip of her coffee before quickly walking away to go talk to a customer.

"She reminds me of you three months ago," Scarlett said with a short laugh as soon as the other woman was out of earshot, echoing Lisa's thoughts from a few minutes previously. "Only a little more high strung."

"Yeah, she had to deal with a lot of stuff, too," Lisa said, looking at Scarlett with a smirk. "Though she didn't get to deal with the good guys, like I did."

"She was stuck with Anthony Meyers, wasn't she?" Scarlett asked. Lisa nodded, and Scarlett laughed. "Fucking asshole, that man is. Christ."

"Was," Lisa reminded her proudly. Scarlett nodded her head in admittance.

"Was," she corrected herself. They both took simultaneous sips of their coffee and glanced around the room, both of them confirming that Mike and Basil were watching Lisa carefully before returning to their chatter. Neither of them noticed that the other was doing it, nor that their actions nearly mimicked each other exactly. If anyone had noticed, they would have said for certain that the two girls were sisters.

"Maybe Jackson was wrong about these people being out to get you," Scarlett said hopefully. "I mean, things are pretty quiet."

"Things are always quiet right up until the shit hits the fan," Lisa said to Scarlett, though she knew that the other woman didn't need to be told that. Scarlett had been through far more in her many years in Paradise than Lisa had been.

Ironically, before Scarlett could say anything, the door flew open, and Joe hurried in, out of breath. His right cheek had a bloody scrape on it, and he was holding his right arm to his side clutched in his left hand.

"Scarlett!" he yelled, causing everyone in the lobby to look up and then glance at each other in concern.

"Joe!" Scarlett shouted in reply, hurrying across the lobby and to the seventeen-year-old boy. "What happened?"

"Someone ran us off the road," Joe panted. "Me and Leya."

"Where's Leya?" Scarlett asked, fearing the worst.

"She was hurt pretty bad," Joe replied. "I left her and…"

"You fucking _left her there_?" Scarlett practically screamed. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

People who hadn't already been staring at them all turned to look now, some mothers covering their children's ears. Lisa, who normally would have been inclined to smile politely and try to excuse Scarlett's yelling, suddenly didn't care about etiquette. Cynthia made the polite rounds.

"She was unconscious!" Joe exclaimed, obviously not noticing that people were staring at him. "The guy kept driving, anyway. It's not that far. Come on, we gotta go."

"Basil! Mike!" Scarlett yelled, grabbing Joe's arm. "Let's go! Come on, Lisa. Now!"

Running towards the door, dragging Joe behind her, Scarlett displayed the most skill any woman has ever displayed; running in heels. Lisa didn't have the time to marvel at that, however, and she jogged after them, her heels clicking awkwardly on the floor. Basil and Mike raced after her, leaving Cynthia standing helplessly in the lobby.


	6. Leave All Thoughts of the Life You Knew

Ooookay here's an extra long one! 13 pages. Woot woot.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed :D. I'm in kinda a shitty mood…I could rant about it, but I won't because I really don't want to bog you all down haha. But basically, leave me reviews to make me happy.

**Jen:** Yay! New fans always make me excited, hahaha. I'm glad you like it, and I definitely agree that Jackson needs some sense knocked into him. But he will get it. Ohhhh, he will get it. Thanks for reviewing!

**Lorelle:** Damn right it's eating him up inside! He's secretly sorry for what he did to Lisa, and he knows it. Haha, yeah, Jacqueline should be pitied a tiny bit, but as a whole I think she pretty much deserves to be slapped.  
Scarlett and Vincent do know about what happened to Lisa, but they don't know a lot. All they know is basically that she got raped. They probably find it better not to ask questions lol.  
You'll have to wait and see about Jacqueline and Joe :D  
Thanks for reviewing!

**Gladys Bagg:** hehehe I'm sorry about your stomach! And I'm glad you like Leya! Hehe! Thanks for reviewing!

**Joelle: **hahaha sketch! Ahhh me and my friends use that all the time! I love it! Hahaha. But yes, she is indeed a rather large sketch! I hope I updated fast enough for you! Thanks for reviewing!

Okay, so **IMPORTANT INFO**…kinda

Okay not really, but basically what I wanted to do was tell you who I picture playing people, for anyone who didn't see the website I made a long while, and also for the new characters I've introduced so far.

Okayy, sooo here goes

**Scarlett: **Kate Beckinsale

**Vincent: **Colin Farrell

**Harrison: **Jared Leto

**Brian Greene:** William Devane

**Jacqueline:** Kim Raver

**Basil:** Dwayne Johnson

**Mike:** Glenn Morshower (A.K.A. Aaron Pierce from 24)

Now, Leya and Joe Peterson are tricky, because I designed Leya to be the bravery and courage in me that I wish I had. When I introduced her to the story, I was mad at a friend of mine, who I based Joe on. I put her in there as a way for me to express my anger, and then I realized that I liked the character and decided to keep her around to play a major part in the story. So basically she's a shameless self-insertion of qualities that I wish I had, and Joe is my gorgeous friend who I just can't say no to no matter how hard I try.

* * *

**Chapter 6: **Leave All Thoughts Of The LifeYou Knew Before

Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation  
Darkness stirs and wakes imagination  
Silently the senses abandon their defenses.  
Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor.  
Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender  
Turn your face away from the garish light of day  
Turn your thoughts away from cold unfeeling light  
And listen to the music of the night

Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams  
Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before  
Close your eyes  
Let your spirit start to soar  
And you'll live as you've never lived before

Softly, deftly, music shall caress you  
Hear it, feel it; secretly posses you  
Open up your mind  
Let your fantasies unwind  
In this darkness that you know you cannot fight  
The darkness of the music of the night

Let your mind start a journey to a strange new world  
Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before  
Let your soul take you where you long to be  
Only then can you belong to me

Floating, falling; sweet intoxication  
Touch me, trust me; savor each sensation  
Let the dream begin  
Let your darker side give in  
To the power of the music that I write  
The power of the music of the night  
You alone can make my song take flight  
Help me make the music of the night

Music of the Night  
Andrew Lloyd Webber  
(Phantom of the Opera)

* * *

"There! Over there!" Joe yelled, and Basil slammed on the brakes. Before he had even stopped the car, Joe threw his door open and jumped out, stumbling a little down the steep incline but regaining his footing and sprinting over to the wreckage. There was a woman standing beside it, holding her cell phone to her ear.

"Oh my God," Scarlett breathed, looking at the wreckage. The car had been Joe's, she knew that much, though it was mauled beyond recognition. It was completely overturned onto its roof, and by the look of it had rolled straight off the road and down the steep hill. It was a wonder that Joe was only as injured as he was.

Lisa and Scarlett kicked off their heels and stumbled down the hill after Joe, not caring that the sharp sticks dug into their feet as they ran. The woman looked up as they approached.

"Where is she?" Joe asked fearfully, looking ready to slaughter the woman.

"Behind the car," the woman said nervously. "Do you know her?"

"I was with her in the accident," Joe explained, running to the other side of the car. Scarlett and Lisa followed, with Basil and Mike behind them. Leya was lying with her head propped up on a jacket, her eyes closed and her head lolling to one side. She was unconscious, but without even checking a pulse, they could see the slight rise and fall of her chest.

"We need to get her to help," Joe said urgently.

"I just called an ambulance," the woman said, coming around the other side of the car. "You said you were with her in the accident? Why did you leave her?"

"I wasn't thinking and I went to get help," Joe replied shortly. His lips were pursed tightly and it was obvious he wasn't too proud of himself, but there was nothing to be done. They all knew that.

"Okay," Scarlett said, taking control of the situation like they all expected her to. "Joe, you wait with Leya and take her to the ambulance. Lisa, call Harrison and make arrangements. You know what I mean." Lisa nodded and grabbed her phone from her purse, walking out of earshot.

Once she couldn't hear Scarlett's soft-spoken orders to Basil and Mike, she opened the phone and quickly scrolled through the addresses, seeing 'Harrison Cell' and clicking on it. There were several rings, and then he picked up.

"Lisa, where the hell are you?" he hissed. "Jackson just got to the Lux, and he's going crazy looking for you."

"I don't have time," Lisa said quickly. "Are you at Paradise?"

"Yeah," Harrison said, prompting a sigh of relief from Lisa. "Why?"

"You need to get to a computer terminal, now," she said.

"I am," Harrison replied. She could hear him putting the cell phone into the cradle beside the computer, which would put her on speakerphone. "Why?"

He sounded nervous. Harrison had good intuition about things like that.

"Leya and Joe got into an accident," Lisa said quietly. "Leya's hurt."

"So bring her back here," Harrison said

"We can't," Lisa argued. "There's a woman here. She saw the wreck and pulled over to help Leya, and she called an ambulance. We can't just take Leya away."

"Ah, fuck," Harrison said, and Lisa envisioned him sitting at his computer, nodding in agreement. 'ah, fuck' was usually Harrison's way of saying 'shit, you're right'.

"So I need you to arrange a past," Lisa said.

Arranging a past was what they did when one of them was caught, injured, or needed to do something in the real world that would require a background check. They would create a believable background for the person, filled with details. To a good computer technician and hacker like Harrison or Leya, it took under ten minutes to get a rough background together.

"Okay," Harrison said. "We're gonna need a father or mother from this complex so they can go pick her up later."

"Jackson," Lisa said. "Teenaged father. Mother died in a car accident."

"Took the kid?" Harrison said. "Rare."

"They'd go for it," Lisa argued. "Good first impression."

"Right. Names?"

"Jeffery and Michelle Logan," Lisa said, making the names up off the top of her head. She was good at that. It wasn't her first time putting together a background with Harrison. Harrison liked to think he was training her for a higher purpose. Lisa just thought it was fun.

"Okay. Mother's name?"

"Gail…" Lisa faltered for a moment.

"Gardener," Harrison finished. Lisa nodded her agreement, though Harrison could not see her. "Okay, date of birth…May eleventh."

"Good," Lisa said. "Jeffery November twenty-fourth. Gail December ninth."

"Got it. Gail dead in car accident at age of twenty."

"Jeffery and Michelle moved from Michigan. He's currently unemployed."

"Good." Harrison typed in a few more letters. "Okay, I think I got it from here, Lisa. Thanks."

"Thank _you_," Lisa clarified, and then she hung up the phone, shoving it back into her purse and walking over to Scarlett and the others. They could hear sirens blaring dimly in the distance, growing louder with every passing second.

"Everything taken care of?" Scarlett asked. Lisa nodded.

"Jackson just went to the Lux," she said. "Harrison said he's going crazy looking."

"Fuck him," Scarlett said with disgust. The woman standing with them was starting to look uncomfortable, but Scarlett didn't seem to care. "The bastard can go nuts as long as he wants. His fucking fault we're here in the first place."

She turned and looked at Leya, who was fortunately still breathing, but was very pale. Joe was sitting beside her, his head in his hands. Scarlett ran her hand over her forehead and closed her eyes briefly for a moment.

"Did you call Vincent?" Lisa asked. "I'm sure he's worried."

"Not yet," Scarlett said absently, her eyes going out of focus a little like they always seemed to do when she was trying to think hard about something. "God, I feel like I'm missing something."

"I'm sure it's fine," Lisa said gently, though she really had no idea what she was talking about or if it was fine or all shot to hell. She wasn't new to this kind of thing, not really, but she didn't think she'd ever get truly used to it like Scarlett and Vincent and Jackson. She hadn't grown up living like that. It was kind of like speaking a second language; you can learn it, but it's a hell of a lot harder if you didn't grow up speaking it.

The ambulance was drawing closer, and soon they could see it up over the rim of the ditch. It drove speedily down the steep dirt road that led into the ditch. No one had noticed it before, and in their surreal mindsets, each of them wondered if it had even been there before.

"Lisa, you're coming with us back to Paradise," Scarlett said decisively, turning to Lisa. "We don't know if this was an accident, or if it was intentional, but…"

"Oh, it was intentional," Joe said bitterly from where he sat, lifting his head from his hands just as the ambulance started to slow down in front of the wreckage. "He rammed into us three times, until finally I had to get off the road. That was what he wanted all along."

"Then why did he just leave?" Scarlett asked, ignoring the woman, who was now staring at them with confusion on her face.

"He wasn't trying to kill them," Lisa said hollowly. "Though I don't think he would have cared if he did. He was sending a warning."

"A warning to Jackson?" Scarlett asked.

"A warning to anyone who's standing in his way," Lisa replied, looking at Scarlett out of the corner of her eye. She turned to look back at Leya. "She was the one who found out that Dave was behind everything."

"We still don't know if Dave had anything to do with it," Scarlett said pointedly. "And besides, how would they know that? They couldn't. And how were they supposed to know that this was Leya?"

Joe glanced up again, and Mike and Basil looked over from where they had been staring at the paramedics rushing towards them. Lisa's head snapped towards Scarlett with the frightening conclusion that they had all just reached.

"Oh my God," Lisa whispered raggedly.

"Shit," Basil said. Mike just hung his head and ran a hand over his balding head.

Everyone knew what that had to mean. If Dave _was _guilty, he wasn't the only one. There was someone else in the complex who was working against them.

* * *

Jackson had just finished interrogating Cynthia when his cell phone rang. Cynthia had just spent the last five minutes babbling about some kid who said that there was a car accident, and he still couldn't get any useful information out of her.

"What?" he snapped into the phone.

"Chill out," Harrison retorted. "Lisa called me."

"Why'd she call _you_?" Jackson asked, not meaning to sound as angry as he did. The anger and frustration got out anyway, and he heard the irritated and slightly hurt sigh that Harrison gave off.

"She wanted me to arrange a background," Harrison replied. "Leya and Joe were in a car accident and Leya's hurt. There were witnesses, and she has to go to a hospital, so I had to get a good background going."

"Did you get everything set?"

"Yeah," Harrison said, not without a touch of pride in his voice. "All the right information inserted in all the right places."

"Do you know anything about Leya?" Jackson asked. "Is she okay? Where are they?"

"No, Don't know, don't know," Harrison answered. "She didn't really tell me anything. I got the impression that it wasn't too pretty."

Jackson swore.

"Okay," he said shortly. "Harrison, you know what you have to do."

"Actually, chief, I don't," Harrison said tiredly. "Maybe if I could get a break or something, or even a cup of coffee, but my fucking assistant is sick…"

"Harrison, focus," Jackson snapped shortly. Harrison had a habit of going off on long-winded tangents when he was nervous or worried about something. They could be stuck there for hours if Jackson let it get out of hand. And Jackson didn't have hours. Jackson had minutes. Maybe seconds. "I need you to get a hold of all the ambulance responses in the area. Look for a car accident."

Got it," Harrison said, his focus razor-sharp once again. Jackson waited impatiently, nodding to his team and walking out of the hotel. They followed him dutifully like the good dogs they were. There was a short beep on the other end of the line, and Harrison sighed with satisfaction. "Here it is. Not that far from there. On James street. That's all I got."

"Okay," Jackson said. He knew that street. It was a deserted street on the outskirts, just a few blocks away. There was a steep drop-off at one point along the road. He would have bet anything that that was where the car had gone off. "James Street," he said simply to the man walking beside him, a big man named Steven. Steven nodded and turned around to tell the rest of the team. Jackson ignored them and got into his car, starting it and quickly pulling out into the noonday traffic.

* * *

The EMTs quickly loaded Leya into the ambulance.

"She's lost a lot of blood," one of them said, examining Leya and then glancing back at the red-stained ground where she had just been laying. He started talking rapidly to the other EMT, and Joe quickly lost focus. He didn't care what they did to her, as long as they fixed her. He had never felt guiltier in all his life. He had done some pretty horrible things, but leaving her alone and helpless had to be the worst.

He watched her face, saw the peaceful expression on it, and he had to try hard not to cry. It was all his fault that she was hurt. He should have been more careful. He could have done so many things differently that would have saved them the pain of the accident, but he had panicked and he had frozen. He could almost hear her screaming at him to turn the wheel, to ram the bastard back, but there was nothing.

Worst of all, Joe knew that if Leya were awake, she would tell him that it wasn't his fault, and that he did everything he could. Because Leya always made him out to be a saint. He didn't deserve her love, and he knew it. Yet, he knew he had it, and he knew he could have her in two seconds for his own. She treated him like an angel. She worshipped him and told him he could do anything, though he knew it was all a lie. She would have been trying to make him feel better about himself by telling him that she would have done the exact same thing in his situation; that it was a lot harder to think when you were sitting in the driver's seat, actually making the decision. He knew that she would have been doing everything in her power to make him know that it wasn't his fault.

But she wasn't awake. And he just kept on blaming.

* * *

_"We're almost there." She brushes her hair out of her eyes adorably. He notices and tries not to smile. She's so cute and she doesn't even know it. _

_"How do you know where this place is anyway?" _

_"I know all, Joseph Miller Peterson. I know all." _

_She grins at him. At the time, he doesn't realize how precious that grin is. He will later. He will remember it and smile fondly, thinking of that moment. Everything was perfect, and he didn't realize it._

_"I'm sure you do," he says, and in a way, he means it. She's wise beyond her years. She doesn't talk about what happened to her family or why Jimmy took her under his wing, but he knows that she's had to grow up really fast. Just as fast as him. That's pretty damn fast. They share a bond that he can never share with Hillary, his girlfriend. They have some unspoken agreement that they'll always be there. He loves her on a level that Hillary can't even begin to comprehend._

_"God, what is that asshole doing?" Leya asks, leaning into Joe a little as she turns to look out the back window and breaking him out of his train of thought. Her hand drifts down like a petal falling from a rose, and she grabs onto his arm like an iron vice. "Joe…"_

_Her voice is strained, tense. He senses it right away and glances in the rearview mirror. The guy behind him is really on his ass._

_"Someone's in a hurry," he mutters, and then the car slams into his bumper. He's about to slam on the brakes, but her hand tightens on his arm as if she knows what he's about to do._

_"Don't," she says, panicking. "Keep going."_

_He's only heard her use that tone of voice once; the time she realized that she couldn't breathe as they were running from Jackson, playing a prank. They had been in the lowest level of the complex, away from any civilized life, and she had suddenly lost the ability to breathe. She told him in that same tone to go get Jackson. The tone that was meant to be calm, but held the thinnest veil of panic just below the surface, like a raging river beneath a thin sheet of ice. _

_"What the hell is this?" Joe asks, as if she'll know. As if she could have predicted this._

_"I think he's trying to run us off the road," she replies in that same steady tone. The thin sheet of ice is cracking. Some of the water is dribbling to the surface, and he wants to push it back down again. Because if the ice breaks, he will fall. If she is shaken, he will blow over easily in the wind. She needs to remain calm for him to stay together, and she knows it. But even she can't keep calm in a situation like this. The flashy sports car has suddenly become a death trap, and he's suddenly counting all the ways to die in a car. _

They could die instantly.

_"What am I supposed to do?" he asks, trying to keep his voice calm, but not managing. _

The car could catch on fire. That would be anything but instant.

_"Just keep going," she answers, practically whispering. Her hand is still on his arm, empowering him and giving him strength. _

Their seatbelts could get stuck, and they could be trapped inside. No doubt that driver would be close behind to finish the job.

_He pictures the car, overturned on the side of the road, as two booted feet come into view. He would try to protect Leya, of course, but he knows that would only buy her a few seconds of time. Neither of them would have any chance. _

_"Faster," she says gently, urging him but not ordering. Keeping him calm. Soothing him. He begs her with his mind to keep doing that. He knows she doesn't hear him, but she'll keep doing it anyway. He can pretend it's because she heard him, and not because she loves him. _

They could even land in water. Trapped in an air bubble that would soon run out.

_He speeds up. The asshole behind him speeds up too. This guy is definitely chasing them; as if the ramming into the bumper didn't tell him that. He takes a quick right, and the guy follows him, speeding up and pulling alongside the car. _

They could get crushed, pinned and bleed to death.

_They both glance over to try and get a look at the driver, but he's wearing a white porcelain mask. Somehow, that's scarier than anything so far. Leya screams._

He could listen to her dying screams, unable to move, paralyzed.

_He hears her screams and speeds up again, desperate to make her stop. The car is now whizzing past trees and fenceposts, all of them blurring together into one big jumbled mess. The other car meets them stride for stride, and then it swerves. It hits them, and they swerve slightly before he rights them. _

_"Hold on," he growls. _

They could hit a tree, a telephone pole. Going ninety miles per hour, that would be a mess.

_He speeds forward. The car slams into the side again. This time, he skids, but doesn't lose control. He knows he can't hold on much longer. All he needs is for another car to come, but there's nothing. The one day when there's no traffic, and it has to be the day that he desperately needs some. _

They could hit another car, or even a person.

_"Ram the bastard back!" she screams, but the order doesn't go through to his brain. He's frozen._

_He tries one last desperate attempt at speeding up, but the car slams into them again, this time hitting them with enough force that they start to slide off the road. Joe looks out the window desperately, horrified when he sees that they're directly beside a ditch. _

_"Hold on!" he screams to her, but it's pointless because he's the one holding on to her. One hand off the wheel and clutching her fingers in his. Then, for a short moment, the scene is dead silent as their car is airborne. Her mouth is open in a silent 'o' of horror, and then their eyes lock and he knows this is it. This could be the last time he looks at her. The last time he sees her. The thought terrifies him, but he can't do anything about that now. The time for action is long past._

_He's barely aware of the car hitting the ground. He just feels his fingers tightening on hers, and he hears her screaming. Then he sees the ground rushing up to meet them as the car does a complete nose-dive into the dirt. It flips over onto its back, but it's not done yet. They were moving so goddamned fast. The car rolls onto its side, and it keeps rolling. It rolls end over end over end, and he can hear voices screaming and he can see blood flying, but he's not fully aware of any of it. It's just him and Leya, hand in hand, and that's all he is; it's all he knows. _

_He thinks he feels pain, but he's not sure. The car rolls over again. It's slowing down. They'll stop soon. He briefly sees out the window. The man in the porcelain mask is standing there, watching them. He clutches her fingers tighter. The car rolls, and the man is gone. He's driving away. He's leaving them there. The car stops._

_He's breathing heavily, his head swollen with surrealism and spinning with red thoughts. _

_"Leya," he croaks, his throat dry and hoarse from yelling. He doesn't remember yelling, but he knows he did. He just knows. _

_There's no answer. He turns his head, grateful when he doesn't feel any pain in doing so. Leya is limp and unmoving, her hair swinging back and forth. Her eyes are closed. _

_"Shit," he swears, and he notices that their fingers are still interlocked. But she's not moving. He releases her hand, and it falls limply towards the ceiling. He reaches down and braces himself against the window with one arm before clicking the seatbelt button. He isn't prepared enough, however, and he falls onto the ceiling painfully, glass slicing across his cheek and twisting his arm. He swears again and rolls onto his back, looking up at Leya. Blood drips down into a pool beside him, and for a long, horrible moment, he thinks that she's dead. _

_He doesn't let himself think that for more than a moment, however. He can't. He kicks out his window, the pieces that aren't already out, and he slides himself out as gracefully as he can manage. He's briefly aware of a biting pain in his stomach, but he ignores it. He stumbles to the other side of the car and kicks open that window, sliding in on his back and gathering Leya into his arms before unbuckling her seatbelt as well. She sags into him, her weight barely enough to surprise him. _

_He drags her out in front of the car and lays her on the grass. She's bleeding pretty bad, but he's not sure where she's bleeding from, exactly. He just sees that she's breathing. That's all that matters._

_He looks around for his cell phone, and doesn't have to look far. It's crushed to pieces on the ceiling of what used to be his favorite car. He falls to his knees beside Leya, and squeezes his eyes shut. Before he knows what he's doing, he's up and walking. He has to get to Scarlett. He needs help. Leya needs help._

_Someone dimly in the back of his mind is telling him that he shouldn't leave her; that he should wait for someone to drive by. But he doesn't listen, and he keeps walking. He needs to get Scarlett. He needs to get help.

* * *

_

Scarlett and Lisa arrived at the complex, both of them worn out and emotionally drained. Harrison met them in the garage, hurrying over with a phone clutched in his hands.

"It's Jackson," he said to Lisa. She glared at him and keeps walking. Harrison sighed and followed her, persisting like a little dog. "He wants to talk to you, Lisa."

"I don't want to talk to him," Lisa replied, not turning to look at him. Scarlett followed her quickly. "I'm going to talk to my father. Please just…stop."

She looked at him pleadingly, and he nodded, though he knew that Jackson was going to kill him for it later.

"All right," he said. Lisa and Scarlett continued walking, followed closely by Basil and Mike. Harrison waited until they were gone, and he put the phone to his ear. "She doesn't want to talk," he said carefully, waiting for the explosion.

"I didn't expect she would," Jackson said heavily instead, surprising Harrison greatly. He blinked slightly, not sure that he had heard the right words.

"Excuse me?" he said. Jackson sighed.

"Look," he said urgently. "Just make sure she doesn't leave. And keep an eye on Jacqueline."

"I have someone with her right now," Harrison replied, as if the very idea of him not keeping a close eye on Jacqueline was absurd. "And I'll watch Lisa, too."

"Good," Jackson said. "Thank you."

Harrison hung up the phone slowly, looking at it with something akin to disbelief. Jackson had said thank you. Jackson didn't thank people for anything. Not usually. He must be in an especially good mood. Or maybe he was just stressed out.

Walking towards the building, Harrison did not see the person crouched behind a car, watching him. He did not see them pull the cell phone out of their pocket and hold it to their ear after dialing a number. He didn't hear them telling the voice on the other end of the line everything that Harrison had just said. He didn't hear them, but he would later wish that he had. It just might have changed everything.

* * *

Lisa knocked on the door to her father's room, glancing down the hallway both ways out of habit. She didn't know why she did that, but she had been doing it since the first time she visited the complex after the Andropov Incident. It had always puzzled her before. It wasn't as if she didn't trust anyone or as if she was ever trying to be sneaky. At that moment in time, however, it made more sense than anything that day. There was someone in the complex who wanted her dead. More than one person. She had a reason to be wary now.

The door was thrown open to reveal her father warily clutching a baseball bat. Lisa rolled her eyes at him and walked in the room. He closed and locked it.

"What are you doing?" she asked him.

"I'm just being careful," Joe replied. "I talked to that Harrison boy earlier, and he told me that you people believe that there's someone in here that's on the dark side. I figure it's better safe than sorry."

Lisa nodded begrudgingly. Though she had been angered by his cautions earlier, she now realized that he had been right all along. How can you completely trust people who kill for a living?

She realized that she was horrible for thinking that, and that she was receding into her old ways, but she just couldn't help it. She had been through too much in the past two days to trust anyone completely.

"I know this has been hard on you, Leese," Joe said, retrieving Lisa from deep inside the cavern of her thoughts. She looked at him emotionlessly. "But try not to be too worried about it. They're going to fix everything."

"Sounds like a weighty prediction for someone who doesn't trust anyone here," Lisa remarked bitterly. Joe gave her an insulted look. She pretended not to notice.

"I'm trying, here, Leese," he said lowly. "And that's all I can do is try."

Lisa nodded slowly, though she wasn't really listening to him. A dull haze had settled over her features. She was so tired; all she wanted to do was sleep. She didn't know what time it was; was it still morning, or had it moved on to the afternoon? She didn't know and she didn't care, either.

"I have to go," she heard herself saying, though that was of course a lie. She didn't _have _to go anywhere, but for some reason she found herself _wanting_ to go. She felt confined in that room. She wanted to go outside, into the fresh air. She had never really enjoyed being outside all that much, but she supposed it was just because she knew that she _shouldn't_ be going outside that she _wanted _to be going outside.

"I'll see you later, Leese," Joe said quietly in reply. Lisa thought that he knew she didn't really have anywhere to be. She couldn't care, though. She felt bitter, suddenly, and she didn't want to be around him. It was horrible, but it was true.

"Bye," she murmured. She walked to the door in a daze, feeling as if she were floating. She barely felt herself close the door behind her. She found herself in the center, and she couldn't remember how she had got there. _I guess this is what it feels like when you're in shock_.

The thought barely registered, and she plopped down at a booth in the restaurant. She wanted to go to the hospital to visit Leya, but she knew she shouldn't go. She shouldn't leave. Instead, she walked up to the bar and ordered a Seabreeze.

* * *

Jackson stood outside the emergency room with Joe by his side, both of them silent and contemplative. If they turned around, they could see Leya being operated on through the window in the door, but neither of them wanted to turn. They just stood there, staring off into the distance, each of them with different memories flashing in front of their eyes. Both of them had their regrets, and both of them had their baggage to sort through.

"He was wearing a mask," Joe said suddenly, shifting slightly and looking down at Jackson (he stood at six feet and two inches while Jackson was only five feet and nine. An embarrassing height difference.). Jackson looked up at him questioningly, pulled out of his own memories of fire and death.

"Excuse me?" he asked, arching an eyebrow.

"The man," Joe clarified, though it wasn't really clarifying at all. "The one who pushed me and Leya off the road. He was wearing a white mask."

Jackson looked at him blankly again. He wondered if maybe the trauma had done something to Joe's brain.

"What kind of white mask?" he asked, like a psychologist might ask a patient what color the sky in their world might be.

"You know, one of those porcelain things. A Phantom of the Opera type deal."

Jackson looked at Joe steadily for a moment, blinking slightly in surprise.

"Porcelain?" he asked, frowning.

"Yeah," Joe said, shaking his head. "I mean, I know it sounds so weird, and honestly I don't know if I'm just crazy or something, but it's just so clear. I saw his face, and it was this porcelain mask, just smiling at us…"

He broke off and shook his head, running a hand through his black curls. Jackson turned and glanced into the room behind them.

"If that's right," he said quietly. "Then that's just another clue that this person is trying to get at us from the inside."

"What do you mean?" Joe asked. "Porcelain masks? I've been living with you guys almost all my life, Jackson, and I've never heard of _anything_ that has to do with porcelain masks."

"You wouldn't have," Jackson said, making a face and shaking his head. "It was way before your time. Way before mine, too, but you didn't hear the stories like I did."

"What stories?" Joe asked, beginning to grow impatient.

"Jimmy used to tell us stories," Jackson said tiredly. "About his life, and about what he used to do."

"I've heard some of them," Joe said, sounding embarrassed. "A few of the guys used to tell them."

"Ever hear about his days as a drug dealer?" Jackson asked, smirking darkly. Joe raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Drug dealer?" he asked. "I never heard that."

"His father was a drug dealer," Jackson said, as if that explained everything. And, in a way, it did, if you already knew the story. "He ran the complex. I'm not really sure who actually built it, but he ran it when Jimmy first was introduced to it. Anyway, Jimmy went to his father looking for a job, because he was newly married, then. His wife, Amora, was pregnant, as I'm sure you've heard."

"With James," Joe said quietly, looking at the ground. Jackson smiled sadly. He didn't think there was anyone in the complex who didn't know _that_ story.

"With James," he confirmed. "Jimmy needed a job. He was barely twenty. I don't know the exact age, but he wasn't much older than you, boy." He gave Joe a look. "His father wanted him to sell drugs, and though it was against everything that Jimmy believed in, he had to do it. Now, how do you think Amora would have felt if she found out that her husband was dealing?"

"Not good," Joe said quietly.

"Not good at all," Jackson agreed. "And Jimmy wanted nothing more than to make his wife happy. So he sold drugs and collected payments, always dressed in a long black coat with a white porcelain mask. Ironically, he was trying for a Phantom of the Opera-like affair; only _his_ mask covered his entire face. The people he sold to were completely terrified of him. They called him the Demon of the Streets. Nice, huh?"

"How would someone even _know _about that?" Joe asked incredulously.

"My point exactly," Jackson said pointedly. Joe nodded in understanding after a moment.

"Yeah," he muttered. "Doesn't that mean it could be anyone?"

"Anyone," Jackson agreed. "Anyone but you and Leya."

Joe nodded and started to turn to look over his shoulder, but stopped himself just in time. He didn't need to see that.

"We're the only ones I can trust," Joe muttered, sighing. "Great."

"You're the only ones I can trust, too," Jackson reminded him. "Even Vincent might be compromised at this point." He shook his head; he hated to say it, but he knew it was true.

Joe looked at him for a long moment, then shoved his hands into his pockets and looked down at the ground, shrugging.

"Hell, Jackson," he said bitterly. "Even _you _could be compromised."

He gave Jackson a suspicious look and then started down the hall, his hands deep in his pockets and his eyes turned towards the ground.

* * *

Leya's eyes slowly eased open. She felt light and numb, and she got the immediate impression that she would be in a hell of a lot of pain if she had been given any less pain medication. Her eyelids felt slow and heavy, and it was all she could do to prop them open. Her head didn't even want to turn to the side.

However, after a few moments that sensation wore off, and she was able to turn her head sleepily to her left. Joe was sitting in the chair beside her bed, his fingers interlaced with hers.

"I'm just not gonna be able to make it tonight," he was saying into his cell phone. "I miss you too, but I really can't go. My friend Leya got into a car accident and I have to be here for her. Yeah, I was in the car too. Yeah, I'm fine. Not a scratch, I swear. She's pretty bad off though. Yeah, all right. I'll call you. Bye."

He hung up the phone and turned to look at Leya, jumping slightly in surprise when he saw that she was watching him.

"Hey," she said to him with a small smile "Surprise."

She was tired and already wanted to just go back to sleep, but she fought that instinct and forced herself to remain awake.

"Hey, babe," he said, smiling at her radiantly.

"Who was that?" Leya asked, gesturing with her head to the phone in Joe's hand. He glanced at it as if he wasn't sure what she was talking about.

"Oh," he said simply. "Uh, Hillary."

Leya tried not to flinch, but she wasn't in her right mind and her instincts of decency were some of the last things to respond in her drugged-up state. Hillary was his beautiful girlfriend, the one from the outside who still had no idea that he was an orphan manager/assassin in training.

"Oh," she said simply, hoping that he didn't notice the flinch. If he did, he didn't give any indication.

"She was just checking up on me," he said, absently running his thumb over the back of her hand. She looked down at their fingers, entwined, and wondered not for the first time if he was imagining her hand as Hillary's hand, and her face as Hillary's face. She looked away and considered taking her hand back, but decided that it could stay that way for the time being.

"What happened?" she asked, shaking her head slightly. "I remember that guy, the one with the mask, and I remember some lady…How'd we get here? Why aren't we back at the complex?"

Joe looked ashamed, and he looked away, removing his hand from hers. Her fingers curled sadly into a fist as he ran a hand through his hair and looked anywhere but at her eyes. She had a feeling that something that had happened that he wasn't too proud of.

"I left you," he said, his voice laden with bitterness. "I left you lying on the ground beside the car because I panicked and I didn't know what to do. So I left and ran to the Lux, and I got Lisa and Scarlett. By the time I got back, some woman had already gotten there and called an ambulance. We couldn't just take you back, so you ended up here."

Leya nodded and looked at him sadly. He still refused to meet her eyes.

"I'm okay, you know," she said gently. "Nothing happened to me. I'm still here. If you're blaming yourself for leaving me, you can stop now. I would have probably done the same thing."

Joe laughed bitterly and turned to look at her finally, though his eyes seemed to stare _through _her, in a way. It was like he was afraid to look at her fully.

"I _knew_ you would say that," he said, sounding proud of himself in a way that held no pride at all. If that made any sense. Leya wasn't sure it did, but then again her thoughts regarding Joe rarely did. She wasn't expecting much sense as it was, and she was also under the influence of enough painkillers to tranquilize a small elephant to top it off. "I knew you would try to tell me that it wasn't my fault and, really, anyone would have done it, because anyone would have been just as scared as me. But, Leya, come on now! You know that's not true. You're just trying to make me feel like I didn't fucking run away like a pussy. But I did. I wish to fucking God that I didn't, but I did."

"Joe…"

"Don't even try, Leya. I know what you're going to do. You're going to build me up again, just like you build me up every time. You're going to make me feel like I can't do anything wrong, like I'm some kind of superman with these crazy powers. And, you know what, I'll believe you. You'll tell me I can do anything, and I'll go out into the big, wide, fucking world and I'll believe with all my heart that I can do anything. But I'll learn soon enough that I _can't_ do everything. You have too much faith in me. I don't know who you see when you look at me, Leya, but it sure as hell isn't the real me."

Leya gazed at him sadly. It wasn't the first time that he had said something along those lines, though Leya never really learned exactly what to say. She just played it by ear every time. Sometimes it worked, and other times it didn't. There was no way to really tell with Joe. Leya had learned that long ago. She decided that it was worth a shot; just like she decided every time. Joe was _always _worth a shot to her.

"Maybe I do put too much faith in you," she said simply, looking at him with her eyes as steady as she could manage them. She was still feeling a little lightheaded, so she had a feeling that her eyes probably weren't as steady as she wanted them to be. "But I am _not_ wrong when I say that you can do anything. You have the potential to be a _great_ man, Joseph fucking Peterson. You have _everything_ going for you. You're like a puzzle or something. You've got all the pieces, but you just need to be put together. And you're never going to get put together if someone doesn't put the effort into you. That's what I do, Joe, because no one else seems to care enough to do it. I'm feeding your fire, I'm putting your pieces together, because I know that once I get you together, you could be the greatest man that ever lived. You are an amazing person, and don't you _ever _think otherwise."

Joe looked down at the ground, either ashamed or confused. Leya watched him, fearing for what his reply would be.

"What did I do to deserve your attention like this?" he asked finally, looking up at her intently. "I mean, what did I _do_? You _love_ me, I know that. This isn't just some stupid crush, is it?" Leya shook her head. Joe had known about her feelings for him for a long time, though Leya never thought he really knew the extent of it. "So what did I do? Why would you spend so much time and thought on me when I barely spend any time on you?"

Leya laughed under her breath slightly.

"I don't know," she answered truthfully. "If I knew, I would tell you, but I honestly don't know. You just…are. You're deserving in some way that I haven't figured out. You are amazing. You are perfect. To me, you can do _anything_. I don't know why, and I don't know how, but you are."

She shrugged and looked at him as if that explained everything. And oddly enough, Joe realized that it did.


	7. Lead Me Through The Fire

Hokay, a little later than usual, but not by much. It's been a stressful weekend. Blech. I'm like completely dead now lol.

Anyhow.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Please, please, please review again. Please.

**Lorelle: **hehehe, I love Phantom of the Opera too :D! That song was one of my favorites too. OMG I'm so happy I got you hooked on 30 Seconds to Mars! So many people have told me that after reading my story, and it makes me so happy every time! I love it! Move Along is a wicked good song too. I definitely agree that it's really catchy. That's what got me, hahaha. Scary Mask very scary agreement! I loved that part in the movie with the water bottle. So…Lisa, hahaha. And you did NOT write too much! You can never write too much because I love reading reviews:D Thanks a bunch for reviewing and definite hugs back :D!

**Jen: **Oh, it's getting deeper indeed :D I'm glad you liked it! Thanks for reviewing!

**Joelle: **Intense! YES! Hahaha. They'll sit down and talk eventually, though not too early in the story. Where would the fun in that be? Hahaha. I'm glad you like how I don't just focus on the main characters. I'm trying to slowly turn it into a more original story, because I don't just want to be completely canon and ficcing the people in the movie the whole time; I want to be at least somewhat creative! Hehe, I love Phantom of the Opera tooo! Thanks for reviewing:D

* * *

**Chapter 7: **Lead Me Through the Fire 

Heaven bend to take my hand  
And** lead me through the fire  
**Be the long awaited answer  
To a long and painful fight  
Truth be told I tried my best  
But somewhere along the way  
I got caught up in all there was to offer  
And the cost was so much more than I could bear

Though I've tried, I've fallen...  
I have sunk so low  
I have messed up  
Better I should know  
So don't come round here  
And tell me I told you so...

We all begin with good intent  
Love was raw and young  
We believed that we could change ourselves  
The past could be undone  
But we carry on our backs the burden time always reveals  
The lonely light of morning  
The wound that will not heal  
It's the bitter taste of losing everything that I have held so dear

I've fallen...  
I have sunk so low  
I have messed up  
Better I should know  
So don't come round here  
And tell me I told you so...

Heaven bend to take my hand  
Nowhere left to turn  
Ilost all those I thought were friends  
To everyone I know  
Oh, they turn their heads embarrassed  
Pretend that they don't see  
But it's one missed step  
You'll slip before you know it  
And there doesn't seem a way to be redeemed

Though I've tried, I've fallen...  
I have sunk so low  
I have messed up  
Better I should know  
So don't come round here  
And tell me I told you so...

**Fallen**  
**Sarah McLaughlin

* * *

**

Scarlett and Lisa sat at the same table that Scarlett sat every morning. Scarlett was a very organized woman, though sometimes she didn't appear to be at all, and she had a very strict morning routine. On this particular morning, Lisa had just been added to it. Scarlett sipped her tea and read The Paradise Page, which was, in Lisa's opinion, the weirdest newspaper that she had ever read.

"Any word from Joe?" Lisa asked tiredly.

"What, your dad?" Scarlett asked absently, turning the page and moving her eyes briefly over the page."

"No, not my dad," Lisa said, rolling her eyes. "Peterson. The kid."

"Joey," Scarlett said decisively. "He might kill us, but we're calling him Joey, now. I get confused."

"All right," Lisa said, unable to suppress a grin. "Have you heard from _Joey_?"

"Not yet," Scarlett said. "Jackson was with him last night, I heard from Vincent, but he's gone completely dark. I don't even know if he came back last night."

She said it so offhandedly, as if it really wasn't a big deal at all, that the thrill of fear that crept up Lisa's spine was a little slow in getting to her.

"Wait, he didn't come back?" she asked when it finally hit her. "Where is he?"

Scarlett shrugged and took a sip of the tea in front of her. Lisa stared at her incredulously. The other woman seemed to be able to feel the eyes burning into the top of her head, for she looked up uneasily after a pause.

"You don't seem very concerned," Lisa said bitterly to explain her chilly behavior.

"Jackson can take care of himself," Scarlett said, waving her hand absently. "Don't worry about him. Trust me, he'll be fine."

Lisa looked at her friend dubiously, but she had no argument. After all, she was supposed to be mad at him. She couldn't show any emotion either way. Though she knew deep down that she wasn't fooling anyone by pretending that she didn't care. Everyone in the damn complex knew she cared, even the people she had never spoken to in the three months she had been visiting. Sometimes, it really was like high school. Only scarier, and probably a little more dangerous.

"But what if he's _not_?" Lisa asked. She got to her feet, running a hand through her hair and trying to quell the urge to panic, though it was rising steadily in her. Scarlett stood up as well, holding out a hand.

"Hey," she said gently. "Don't worry. Stop panicking. There's nothing to worry about."

"What's Joey's number?" Lisa asked absently. Scarlett sighed and pulled out her cell phone.

"It's in there," she answered. "Under JP."

Lisa nodded and walked over to the bathrooms. Sparing a moment of thought for Felicia, as she always did when she used the restrooms in the center, she pushed open the door and made sure that there was no one in there. It was better to be careful, especially when she wasn't all that sure that everyone at the complex was completely loyal. There seemed to be sufficient evidence against it.

Wasting no time, Lisa quickly clicked on Joe's name and put the phone to her ear, biting her lip and waiting impatiently for him to answer. There was a long, painful silence, and then someone answered.

* * *

"Scarlett?" 

Joe frowned into his phone. He couldn't fathom why _Scarlett_, of all people, would be calling him. He knew that she wasn't too fond of him; both because he never gave Leya a chance, and because he just annoyed the shit out of her. He thought it possible that maybe she just wanted to check up on Leya. Or maybe she wanted to bitch at him for leaving her.

As it turned out, it wasn't Scarlett at all.

"No, it's Lisa," answered Lisa. "Are you with Jackson?"

"Jackson left last night," Joe answered, turning to look at Leya, who was still sleeping. He had been out in the waiting room all night, waiting for them to let him back into Leya's room. The second that visiting hours started again, he was back up in the room. "Why, isn't he there?"

"No one's seen him," Lisa said, sighing. "I guess I'll go check with Sal?"

"Good idea," Joe said, nodding. "If he was in at all last night, Sal will know. Did you ask Vincent? Or that slutty chick?"

He could hear the smile in Lisa's voice.

"I didn't talk to the slut," she said smugly. "But Scarlett talked to Vincent. She said that he doesn't know where Jackson is."

"Hm, that's odd," Joe said absently, glancing out the window. "I don't know where he could be, honestly. If I hear from him, I'll call you on Scarlett's number."

"Thanks so much, Joey," Lisa said, sighing with content. Joe decided not to tell her that he hated that nickname. She was under a lot of stress; he could give her the satisfaction of having thought of a cute nickname. "How's Leya doing?"

"She's sleeping right now, but she's gonna be fine," Joe said, looking down at Leya tenderly. He gently reached out and brushed a hand through her hair. She stirred lightly and smiled, nuzzling into the touch. He half-smiled and forced himself to look away. "They said she should be able to get out of here tomorrow, though they're probably going to keep her an extra day, just to see how she's doing."

"Right," Lisa said. "I'm glad she's all right. How about you?"

"I'm fine," Joe said, smiling. "Just my arm was a little beat up; nothing they can't fix.

"I'm happy to hear it," Lisa said, and Joe could tell that she meant every word. He came to a sudden realization.

"Hey, Lisa," he said slowly. "Last night, the last time I saw Jackson, I was talking to him about everything that's happened so far, and Jackson was saying that there was some connection to Jimmy or something…"

"Wait, what?" Lisa asked. "Connection between Jimmy and what?

"The people who have been doing this shit," Joe answered, taking a seat in the chair beside the bed and running a hand through his curls. "The man who was driving the car that hit us, he was wearing a porcelain mask. A white one."

"Why?" Lisa asked, sounding weirded out. Joe didn't blame her; he didn't think he would ever forget that sight.

"Well, Jackson told me this story about Jimmy and how he used to sell drugs for his father. He said that when Jimmy used to go collect payments and sell the shit, he would wear a white porcelain mask and try to scare them into paying on time. They called him the Demon of the Streets. Jackson said that he thought that that meant that the person who had been driving the car, or the person who was in charge of that man's wardrobe, is from our place. He said it would be someone who has been around for a while. And he told me that since Leya and me were in the car when it happened, we didn't do it. And we were the only people he trusted."

"What does this have to do with Jackson disappearing?" Lisa asked, finally losing patience. Joe sighed and continued steadily.

"I told Jackson that I couldn't even trust him, because really, what proof is there that he didn't do it?"

"I'm sure he took _that _well," Lisa snorted.

"But think about it," Joe said. "We can't trust anybody, right? I mean, I trust you and Leya. That's it. Anybody else could be compromised."

"What about Scarlett and Basil and Mike?" Lisa asked pointedly. "They were with me when the car accident happened."

"Yeah, but then we get into the really tricky stuff like, they could have hired someone to do it." Joe sighed. "Lisa, _anyone _could be dirty. At this stage in the game, we can't rule anyone out."

"So why do you think Jackson took off after you said that to him? Do you think he's really the one behind this. That's crazy."

"Think about it, Lisa," Joe said gently. "Is it really?"

Lisa stubbornly refused to believe him, mostly because she didn't _want _to believe him. Something told her, though, that she should. Something told her that he was right. They couldn't trust anyone.

Not even Jackson.

* * *

Jackson walked through the doors in the hospital, smiling genially at the woman at the front desk and politely stating who he was visiting. She let him through with an equally sunny smile, and he wondered if she was putting on an act as much as he was. He couldn't tell with her, but he'd be willing to bet that she was. Then again, maybe she was just one of those saints. 

He walked down the hallway towards the elevator. He wondered how Lisa had felt, going to visit him all those months ago. That was before she had first gotten to know him, of course, and he wondered if she hated him then. He knew she said she did, but she was a very good liar. He thought that if she was visiting him at all, there had to be something there. Attraction, maybe, but he didn't think that was it. There was also obviously pity. Maybe love at first sight? He didn't think so, but it was probably possible.

He wasn't sure what it was that was causing thoughts like that, but then again he also did know. He knew he wasn't making any sense, even to himself, but he didn't really care. After all, he wasn't trying to impress anyone. Certainly not himself. He knew from experience that impressing himself just wasn't possible. He just wanted to think about things, because somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that he _needed _to. He needed to think about everything that was going on in his life because he had come to a crossroads. One that he never thought he would have to deal with.

Sighing with impatience, he cursed the elevator for being so slow and giving him so much time to think on the way up. He wished that it would just hurry up and get up to Leya's floor so he would be given yet another excuse to avoid what he needed to do. If there was one thing that Jackson Rippner was good at that didn't involve pain or death, it was procrastinating.

He had known from the start that being around Lisa was going to be difficult. She was a beautiful woman, and he hated to see a woman cry. Thanks to that stupid promise he had made himself all those years ago, he just couldn't stand it when a woman shed a tear. He knew that the task, his job, was going to be difficult, but he saw no other way to make it happen. He had to get Keefe killed, and Lisa Reisert seemed to be the perfect opportunity. He would never have guessed that it would lead him to where he was standing on that day. He would never have guessed that he would have ended up feeling something that he honestly hadn't felt in his lifetime. Stuff like that just didn't happen to the Jackson Rippner of six months previous. The younger Jackson Rippner, maybe, but the hardened Organization manager? Never.

Jackson sighed and ran a hand through his hair, sighing with relief when the elevator doors chimed open. He walked swiftly out and down the hall, giving him less time to think.

Basically, he had feelings for Lisa. That was the most professional way he could put it. He wasn't sure exactly what those feelings were, but they were definitely above simple lust. It wasn't just about attraction with her anymore. He never wanted her to be sad, and he never wanted her to be hurt in any way. He didn't think lust had much to do with caring. Not that he was really an expert on either.

Finally, he reached Leya's room. The door was open, and he could see that Joe was sitting beside the bed, smiling and talking with her. He felt a small smile gracing his own lips, and he leaned against the door to watch them. No one looked up.

"Hey, Jack."

Jackson turned around to face the man standing behind him, a puzzled but pleased grin on his face.

"Hey," he said, holding out his hand and shaking the other man's. It was always a formality between the two of them, though neither was completely sure why. "Did Vincent call and tell you or something?"

"Nah, Vincent didn't call me," the man said, shaking his head.

"Lisa? Scarlett?"

"Nope," the man said, still smiling. He held up something from behind his back, and Jackson saw that it was a gun. His eyes widened, and he stared at the barrel of the weapon with a sinking feeling of betrayal.

"What are you…?"

"Just bear with me, Jack," the man said with a grin. "And how about we go visit your friends in there?"

* * *

"Just bear with me, Jack." 

Joe looked up from where he sat with his head bent low as he talked to Leya gently and tried to reassure her that everything was going to be all right. When he saw the sight outside, he stopped talking, all motor functions in his body shutting down.

"And how about we go visit your friends in there?"

"Is that…?" Leya whispered fearfully, though she knew the answer to that question already. Joe nodded slightly anyway. It was Jackson. And the man holding the gun to Jackson's head was one of the people that Joe least expected.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Jackson asked loudly. Joe knew he was trying to get their attention. He was trying to alert them to the fact that someone who they thought was normally a benevolent man was standing outside with a gun to Jackson Rippner's head.

_But, wait_, Joe thought with sudden clarity. He had just been on the phone, not even an hour before, trying to convince Lisa that they shouldn't trust anyone, not even Jackson. Maybe it turned out that he was right. Maybe Jackson had been compromised; maybe Jackson was dirty. The man with the gun, who Joe liked to call Clue for some reason unbeknownst to anyone, was probably just trying to keep Jackson under control.

He had utterly convinced himself of that when Leya turned to him, her hand reaching out and clasping his wrist. The white hotel bracelet dangled against his skin, and he was brought back to the reality of it all with that simple gesture.

"Close the door," she whispered gently. "Close it and lock it. We have to get out of here."

"Leya, we _can't_ get out of here," Joe said with irritation as Jackson and Clue continued to argue in the hallway. "You're…"

"Close the fucking door, Joe," Leya said in a low voice, tinged with panic. The thin sheet of ice over the raging river was being eroded quickly. The thought scared Joe just enough that he didn't ask any questions or file any more complaints, but simply got to his feet and crept over to the door, slowly easing it shut.

"I don't get it," he said after he had locked the door. "Why are we closing the door?"

"He had a fucking gun to Jackson's head," Leya said with irritation. Joe turned and glanced out the glass door in the window. Jackson and Clue hadn't seemed to notice that the door was closed at all, though Joe would have to bet that Jackson really did notice. There weren't many things they could escape Jackson's Rippner.

"How do we know that Jackson's not the bad guy here?" he asked curiously.

"He's not," Leya said. And then, because she knew that she had no proof to back herself up, she said, "And even if he was, do you really want him in this room? Either way we're screwed, so open that window."

Joe didn't really see what one had to do with the other, but he did it anyway. When Leya got that tone of voice, it really was better to listen to her.

"You're not just going to…get up, are you?" he asked incredulously. "Babe, you can't get out of bed."

"I don't have much of a choice, do I?" she asked. Take the sheets off the bed."

She pulled an IV out of her arm without so much as a wince. Joe winced enough for the both of them, and then he started to gather the sheets together. Leya got to her feet so steadily that Joe was sure that she was completely fine. Then, she took a step and fell to the ground, clutching at the desk beside her bed. Joe dropped the sheets and hurried to her side, grabbing her by the arms and hoisting her up.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" he asked her. She nodded, out of breath.

"Yeah," she said. "I'm fine. The sheets, Joe. Get the sheets. Anything like a blanket that you can find."

Joe nodded and started ripping the sheets off the bed.

"Why not press the call button?" he asked.

"We don't need any innocent people getting killed," Leya replied seriously, and Joe was silent. There was no arguing with that logic.

He ripped the sheets off the bed, tossing them into a pile on the floor. Leya staggered into the bathroom, clutching her clothes in her hands. She slammed the door, and a bare thirty seconds later she emerged, fully dressed.

"Start tying the sheets together," she said. "Like a prison movie or something."

"Okay, you have to be fucking kidding me," Joe said, shaking his head. "There's no way…"

"Just _do _it," Leya said in that same, urgent voice. She sank down to the bed, holding her head in her hands. The bandage on her arm had nearly bled through. He bit his lip and started to protest, but decided to just do what she said. She had been doing everything for him for the past two years. It was time for him to just listen to her. Besides, it wasn't as if they had any other plan.

* * *

"Do these doors lock?" 

Jackson sighed and looked over his shoulder at the man standing with the gun pressed to his back. His fingers itched to rip the gun out of the man's hands, and he knew he could. Damn that man for using his own tricks against him. He had somehow kidnapped Lisa and was holding her hostage at some point in the building. Jackson wasn't sure if he was telling the truth or not; he could very well be lying. But was he really willing to test that? No. It was the first proof that Jackson Rippner really did have a heart of gold, somewhere in his body. Maybe.

"I don't know. Try the fucking door," he growled. The man who Joe called Clue glared at him impatiently.

"You're testing me, Jack," he said bitterly. "Don't test me."

Jackson fell silent, simmering angrily. He hated nothing more than when he was told to stop being sarcastic. Jackson Rippner and sarcastic went together like bread and butter. That was just who he was.

Whether or not the doors actually had the capability to lock was irrelevant, because when The Man turned the doorknob, the door opened easily, revealing the empty hospital bed, stripped of its sheets. Jackson sighed with relief. He had given them enough time for them to devise some kind of escape plan (though it was probably Leya who did all the thinking, he reasoned).

"This is really not my fucking day," sighed The Man. He shoved Jackson forward and looked around suspiciously. Slowly, his head rotated in every direction expertly. There weren't many places to hide in the small room; in fact, Jackson would have to say that there were close to none. The Man frowned and walked slowly towards the window, leading Jackson in front of him. When he reached the window, he leaned out and looked down. The sheets barely reached halfway down the building, but they reached to an open window a few floors down.

"Shit," he muttered, staring at the window. "Shit, shit, shit."

* * *

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit" 

Leya didn't waste time with words; she just grabbed Joe's hand and they crept out of the bathroom as stealthily as criminals hiding from the authorities. The Man never even turned around. Once they were outside the room, they started to sprint down the hallway, though that was considerably difficult for Leya. She didn't complain, however, and she somehow managed to keep up.

"This way," she said to Joe breathlessly, taking a right and skidding to a halt, resting against the wall and catching her breath. Joe sensed that she was feeling dizzy, and he put one hand across the front of her waist. They stood there in utter silence for a few moments, listening for the sounds of pursuit. There was nothing; everything was silent. Leya sighed with relief. "Get your cell phone out," she said quietly. Joe reached into his pocket and then paled. Leya looked at him, exhaustion settling over her features.

"Shit," Joe whispered, and Leya nodded slowly.

"That's all right," she said hopefully. "I didn't remind you to grab it. I should have."

"Don't you dare blame yourself," Joe muttered angrily. "I'm so fucking stupid. All right…we'll just have to get to another phone. Where the fuck are we, anyway?"

"No clue," Leya responded. "Just…look for stairs.

Joe nodded, and they started off walking; Leya limping and Joe helping keep her up, as their footfalls echoed in the silent hallway.

* * *

"How the fuck did they know?" 

"They saw you standing outside with a gun to my head. Maybe that might have given them a clue."

"Joe should have believed I was trying to stop you from hurting Leya. He _just_ spoke with Lisa. Was trying to convince her that you were in on this whole thing."

"Well, you really can't trust anyone in your life, can you?"

He shot The Man a disparaging look, but he didn't seem to notice. He just picked up his phone and dialed a number.

"Hey, it's me," he said. "I got Rippner, but the two others got away. They saw my face. I need you to sweep the building. Kill everyone you see. I want the boy dead, but I need the girl alive. Bring her to me, Joel. And bring the boy's body with her."

He hung up the phone, and Jackson closed his eyes, trying to shove his emotions back down into the back of his mind. They protested, however, and eventually won out. His imagination had a field day as well, picturing Leya crying and screaming and being dragged into a dark closet, where she was stashed with Joe's body until The Man was ready to see her. He imagined Leya rocking his bleeding corpse back and forth, tears falling like rivers.

"You fucking bastard," he muttered under his breath. The Man didn't hear him, or if he did, he pretended that he didn't.

* * *

Lisa flopped down onto her bed, sighing heavily into her phone. 

"I really don't know what to think anymore," she said bitterly. "I don't know who to trust…"

"I know," Cynthia's soothing voice replied. "But, Lisa, you'll figure it out. I know you will. You always do, you know. You always figure everything out. I'm sure it's not even really someone important."

"But what if it's Jackson?" Lisa asked quietly.

"Then, you'll kick his ass," Cynthia said, as if it were obvious. Lisa sighed.

"You know it's not that simple," she said quietly.

"Yeah, I know," Cynthia said regretfully. "Though I wish it was. You really like this guy, don't you?"

"Just a little," Lisa said humorlessly.

"You'll get over it eventually," Cynthia said offhand, trying to sound cheerful. "I mean, you're probably just attracted to him because of that whole mysterious thing. Some girls like that."

"Jackson isn't mysterious to me," Lisa said with a small snort. "Not anymore, anyway."

"I know," Cynthia said, sighing. Lisa could practically picture her rolling her eyes. "But you never know. I'm just trying to help."

"I know," Lisa said, sighing. "I just don't think there's much that _can _help at this point."

"Try not to worry too much about it," Cynthia said, sighing. "Look, I have to go get ready for work. You gonna be okay?"

"I should be fine," Lisa answered, though that was so far from the truth it was almost funny.

"Okay, good," Cynthia said with a small perk to her voice. Lisa smiled and hung up the phone, not feeling much better. She had just put it down on the receiver when her cell phone rang. She frowned and walked over to it, frowning even more when she saw that the man who was calling her was listed as 'Brian Greene'.

"Hello?" she said, confused.

"Lisa? It's Greene."

"Yeah," Lisa said, waiting for an explanation. "I know."

"I tried to call Jackson, but he's not answering his phone, and neither is Vincent or Scarlett or Harrison. I don't have any other numbers."

"I understand," Lisa said, getting up and walking over to the door, throwing it open. "What do you need?"

"I just got a call. Apparently there's been a shooting at the hospital where two of your people are being treated."

Lisa's eyes widened and she started to trot quickly down the hallway, looking for any of her friends.

"Are they okay?" she asked.

"We don't know," Greene replied. "All we have are scattered reports of gunmen…it can't be a coincidence."

"No, it can't," Lisa agreed, panicking. She burst into the center, where a few people were loitering around. She didn't see anyone she knew, but suddenly she spotted Jacqueline sitting at the bar. She was loath to do it, but she knew she had no choice. She had to get to someone, and if Jacqueline was the only one around, so be it. She would have to suck it up. She walked quickly towards the other woman.

"I wanted to tell you so you could get your men in there," Brian said. "I know how much Leya and Joe mean to Jackson."

"They mean a lot," Lisa agreed. "Thank you, Brian. I'll have my men in there soon."

"Good," Brian said, and then there was a click, and he was gone.

Lisa walked up to Jacqueline's table. Jacqueline looked up with surprise and unease written on her face. She stood up as well, as if to ward off an attack. Lisa didn't blame her.

"I need your help," she said instead of launching into a tirade. "Have you seen Vincent? Or Scarlett? Or Harrison?"

"What's going on?" Jacqueline asked. Lisa debated whether or not to trust her, but decided that it didn't really matter what she told her; if she was a traitor, she was working for the people who were at the hospital anyway. There was no harm.

"There's been a shooting at the hospital where two of our people are being treated," Lisa said in a surprisingly professional voice. It scared her a little that she was getting so good at it. "Our plant in the police force…" (A lie, but Jacqueline didn't need to know _all _the details) "…heard about it and tried to get in contact with Jackson and the others, but they're not answering their phones. I was the only one he could get in touch with."

"Oh my God, a shooting?" Jacqueline asked, walking around the table and over to Lisa. "Does he know if everyone's all right?"

"He has no idea," Lisa replied. "I need to find Vincent and Scarlett so we can get some people in there."

"Right, of course," Jacqueline said. "Let's go."

She walked off towards the business center. Lisa followed her, her shorter legs keeping time with Jacqueline's long ones stride for stride. She wasn't about to be beaten by the other woman at anything, not even walking.

They walked through the glass doors of the business center, and again Lisa was filled with that sense of being very out of place. She walked quickly down the hallway with Jacqueline, coming to the door of the computer lab where Harrison could usually be found chatting away with Leya. Usually, the chatter was about Joe or Harrison's girl of the week. Harrison was a man with a very sensitive soul, and he liked to listen to Leya vent about her problems. It was kind of cute.

On this day, it was just Harrison sitting alone at one of the computers, moodily finishing up the loose ends of the background. Even though the one that he created would no doubt be sufficient enough, he liked to still clean it up completely, just so no one would see through any holes. Of course, that was all completely useless now, and Scarlett almost felt bad for telling him.

"Harrison," she said lightly, and he turned around, surprised to hear her. He was even more surprised when he saw who she was standing with.

"Uh…yeah?" he asked nervously. "What's up?"

"There's been a shooting at the hospital where Leya and Joe are staying," Lisa said urgently. "We need to get a hold of Vincent and Scarlett and get some people there as soon as we can, or else there's going to be some serious problems.

"Shit, are they okay?" Harrison asked, paling a few shades. Lisa shrugged. Harrison took that as a sign to hurry, and he picked up the phone at his station, dialing Vincent's number by heart and waiting for a few moments. "Ah, fucker," he swore, ending the call and trying Scarlett's. After a few more moments waiting in silence, and another 'ah, fucker', he turned to look at Lisa mournfully. His eyes greatly resembled puppy dog eyes.

"Shit," Lisa swore uncharacteristically, putting her hand to her forehead and closing her eyes. She suddenly realized what was going on. "I'll be right back," she said, and she turned and ran out of the room, leaving Jacqueline and Harrison awkwardly behind.

* * *

Joe and Leya crouched behind a large emergency operation table in a storage closet, breathing heavily and clutching each other fearfully. There was silence outside in the hallway, but every so often they would hear a burst of gunfire. Both of them would jump, and then grab one another tighter. 

"We need to get out of here," Leya said in a sobbing voice. Joe looked at her with surprise and saw that there were tears streaming down her face and that she was shaking badly. He was filled with panic, and honestly had no idea what to do. She had always been the strong one, and he had always drawn on her for support. He wasn't used to having to protect her though then again they had never been in a situation like the one they were currently in. He knew, then, that protecting her from harm was what he had to do.

"Hey, hey, look at me," he said, grabbing her arm tightly and turning her around to face him. "Look at me, Leya."

She obeyed, her chin quivering fearfully and her eyes glinting in the fluorescent lighting. He looked around them and saw that there were a few sheets sitting in a pile on the shelves.

"Look, here, this is what we're going to do," he said decisively. He stood up and grabbed a few of the sheets, ignoring the sharp pain in his arm. He unfolded one and draped it over the table. It dragged on the ground a bit, but it was convincing enough. Then, he walked over to another one of the tables and did the same thing. Leya just watched him with fearful eyes. He looked around the room, and his eyes settled on the shelf filled with supplies. He grabbed a few large nebulizer machines, and a few boxes of syringes and piled them on top of the first table. Then, he moved a group of IV stands that was sitting in the corner until there was a big enough space for the table to fit in. Carefully, he maneuvered the table that they had been hiding behind over into the corner. Then, he grabbed a few more handfuls of supplies, not even looking at them as he shoved them onto the two emergency carts. Leya shakily got to her feet and helped him, though she wasn't entirely sure what he was doing.

One they had finished, he looked around to make sure everything looked convincing, even arranging the shelves so it didn't look like he had totally taken everything off of them haphazardly. The two carts were pushed into the corner, both of them with medicinal supplies piled on top. One of them had supplies under the sheet as well, and the other, backed into a corner, was empty.

"Come on," he said simply, and he pulled Leya by the hand into the corner, beside the cart. He helped her into it, under the sheet.

"Where are you going?" she asked him fearfully.

"I'm going to need to turn off the lights," he said apologetically. "Don't worry. I'll be right back. Just stay there."

She nodded wordlessly, though she did look slightly more frightened. He knew that she had a horrible fear of the dark, which was perhaps even greater than her fear of spiders. Looking around the room once, he spotted a bunch of scalpels in a box. He grabbed one, and then turned back to look at Leya. She already held a handful of syringes clutched in her hand. He had to smile; she was a quick thinker.

He watched her as he walked over to the light switch, and their eyes locked as he put a hand on it. Then, as if they were submerging into water, both of them took a deep breath, and then they were cast into darkness.


	8. Even If Your Hope Has Burned With Time

Hokay, so, here's the update. My internet died and such and so I haven't been on a lot, but I finally found the time and the will to actually do it.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Please remember to review again!

Oh, and a little note. Jessie Laramie Emilie de Ravin.

**Jen: **I'm glad you liked ittt! Sorry you had to wait longer than you should have, haha. Thanks for reviewing!

**Joelle: **hahaha sluttish. I like it. We shall see if she's actually concerned or not. Oh yes, we shall see. It's okay if you can't think of anything original to say. I can't think of anything original to say a lot of the time either, so it's not like I can begrudge you that or anything. Thanks for reviewing!

**Lorelle: **hehe, poor hair. Vincent will be back in full sidekick swing. I'm glad you see him as the funny best friend because that was definitely what I was going for. He wasn't as funny as he could have been in abl and I wanted to really bring him out into the limelight for this one. I haven't seen grease (I know, I know, im horrible) but im sure your comparisons are accurate, hahaha. I'm glad you liked Cynthia's line too. She reminds me of one of my friends so I played that up and made her even more like my friend in this story haha. Hehe, The Rock as Basil amused me too. I thought it would be fitting, and I absolutely adore him, so that works:D Thanks for reviewing! Hugs!

* * *

**Chapter 8: **Even If Your Hope Has Burned With Time 

_I wanna have the same last dream again  
__The one where I wake up, and I'm alive  
__Just as the four walls close me within  
__My eyes are opened up with pure sunlight  
__I'm the first to know  
__My dearest friends  
__**Even if your hope has burned with time  
**__Everything that's dead shall be regrown  
__And your vicious pain, your warning sign__  
You will be fine  
__  
Hey, oh, here I am  
__And here we go  
__Life's waiting to begin _

_Any type of love it will be shown  
__Like every single tree reached for the sky  
__If you're gonna fall, I'll let you know  
__That I will pick you up like you for I  
__I've felt this thing  
__I can't replace  
__Where everyone was working for this goal  
__Where all the children left without a trace  
__Only to come back as pure as gold  
__To recite this all  
__  
Hey, oh, here I am  
__And here we go  
__Life's waiting to begin, tonight _

_I cannot live, I can't breathe unless you do this with me  
__I cannot live, I can't breathe unless you do this with me  
__I cannot live, I can't breathe unless you do this with me  
__I cannot live, I can't breathe unless you do this with me  
__I cannot live, I can't breathe unless you do this with me  
__I cannot live, I can't breathe unless you do this with me_

_Hey, oh, here I am  
__And here we go  
__Life's waiting to begin  
__Life's waiting to begin_

**The Adventure  
Angels and Airwaves

* * *

**

Lisa stood outside Scarlett's room, her chin thrust into the air even though she was inwardly cringing at the idea of doing what she was about to do. Her hand was curled around the doorknob, and she breathed slowly in and out for a few moments before she regained her composure and threw the door open, the keys dropping uselessly to the floor.

She strode into the room with an icy reserve and a mind crying out to tell her that she was a complete idiot. She didn't listen to a word it had to say, and instead she walked straight past the office and into the bedroom.

She was right about what she expected to see, but that didn't make it any less mortifying when she saw it.

"What the fuck!" Vincent exclaimed, grabbing a sheet and rolling off of Scarlett quickly, flushing bright red. His voice rose a few octaves. "Lisa!"

"Lisa, what's wrong?" Scarlett asked, also grabbing the sheet and pulling it up around her, but realizing that there had to be a good reason for Lisa to barge in like that.

"There's been a shooting at the hospital where Leya and Joe are," Lisa replied in her best professional voice, trying to ignore the fact that Vincent was staring at her with his eyes bulging out of his head like he couldn't believe she was there. He didn't look mad, not really, but he did look pretty confused. When she said the piece about Leya and Joe, however, he stopped staring.

"Shit," he muttered, slamming his head back against the wall.

"I'll let you two get dressed. Hurry. Me and Harrison will get a team together."

With that, Lisa turned and strode out of the room, closing the door behind her and finally allowing her face to flush bright red with embarrassment. She had just walked in on two of her closest friends having sex, and she had done it on purpose. She was becoming one of them. Well, she reasoned, at least Scarlett was getting her wish at making Lisa less sheltered.

* * *

Leya's eyes strained against the infinite darkness that seemed to press against her, and she moved far back against the wall, clinging to one of the metal poles of the carts. Her natural instinct was to cry out to Joe, but she didn't want to say a word. It was as if she was afraid the darkness would leap out to get her if she did. 

She heard a brief metal tinkle in front of her, and then she felt someone brushing up against her.

"Joe?" she whispered tremulously, a fresh batch of tears forming. She hated crying, but she couldn't even think straight enough to realize that she was doing it. Her leg was throbbing, and her head was throbbing in time with it, and she didn't know what she was even doing there. She just knew she was scared shitless.

"Yeah, babe, I'm here," whispered his voice out of the darkness. She closed her eyes and fresh tears of relief trickled down through her lashes. Hearing him speak and hearing him call her babe was starting to build a whole new wall of resolve. As long as he was with her, things didn't seem so bad.

His hand found hers in the darkness, and his fingers moved past her arm and around her waist, pulling her over to him gently until she was sitting with her back to his stomach, and his arms were around her. She was facing the wall, she thought, though she couldn't be sure. Though, she knew Joe, and she knew that he would never put her in the position where she would be closest to harm.

"Don't be afraid," he whispered in her ear, so close to her. She closed her eyes and leaned back against him. His arms tightened around her, and she found it so ironic that this could be happening when she was in the direst situation of her life. The thing that she had always wanted was happening, and it had to be happening then. She turned into Joe's chest as his back leaned against the wall, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt with her hands. His arms held her tighter, and they sat there melded together like that in the darkness, waiting for what neither of them could prevent.

* * *

"I called Joe's cell phone," Harrison said as Lisa strode back into the room, still slightly red from what she had had to do only a few minutes before. "No answer." 

"Shit," Lisa swore, putting a hand to her head. "Any luck getting Jackson?"

"None," Harrison answered, shaking his head. "We need to get over there."

"Vincent and Scarlett are coming," Lisa remarked, and Harrison didn't bother asking where they were or what they were doing. If it had been any other situation, he would have been smiling knowingly at her, but at the moment, his face was blank. It was not a time for humor.

"I called a team together," Harrison said. "Some of our best men. None of them know anything about what's going on. They're all clean."

"Okay," Lisa said, nodding. "Am I going with you?"

"Yes," answered Scarlett from behind her, gliding in and looking like she had taken an hour to get ready. Lisa marveled at that. "You're coming with me, and you're staying in the car with me, just in case they need any backup."

"Got it," Lisa said, nodding.

"I'll lead the team," Vincent said as he walked in, tucking his shirt into his pants. Harrison's eyes twinkled a little with the urge to laugh, but his face remained emotionless. "Did you get it together?"

"I did," Harrison said.

"Good," Vincent said. "You staying here?"

"That I am," Harrison replied. "I'll stay with miss Regan."

"All right," Jacqueline said, surprisingly putting up very little fight. "I'll stay here."

Everyone looked around at one another, wracking their brains to see if they were missing anything.

"Let's go," Vincent said after a while, and they turned and marched out of the room.

* * *

"Leya?" 

Joe's whispered voice out of the darkness surprised Leya a little, and she turned to look at him though she couldn't even begin to make out his face in front of her.

"What?" she asked him.

"Did you see who was taking Jackson?"

"I did," Leya answered, closing her eyes.

"Why do you think he did it? Do you think Jackson's the one who's been doing all this shit?"

"No, I don't," Leya answered, sighing. "Jackson wouldn't. I know him."

"But if it's…" Joe trailed off, not wanting to say the name. "We know him, too."

"I know," Leya said with a sigh. "But Jackson…he's different. I just…I know it wasn't him."

"You can't know something like that," Joe said pointedly. "You think _I'm_ perfect."

"You _are_ perfect," Leya murmured into his chest, completely aware of how close they were. "I'm a good judge of character, Joe. Don't even start with me. Jackson is a good man."

Joe sighed and gently tightened his grip on her. He didn't know if he believed that Jackson was completely innocent, but he knew that he couldn't argue with her. Arguing with her was particularly difficult because she had a stony resolve to win at all costs. She was a damn good arguer too, he had to admit.

"So what are we going to do?" he asked her after a bit.

"We wait, I guess," Leya said, her heart hammering in her chest. Joe didn't have anything to say to that.

* * *

Lisa's phone rang about halfway to the hospital. She picked it up and flipped it open without even looking to see who was calling. 

"Hello?" she asked, expecting to hear Brian's hoarse tones. Instead, she heard a much more welcome voice.

"Leese?" came Jackson's voice, rushed and out of breath.

"Jackson, where _are _you?" Lisa asked, signaling to the others in the car that it was indeed Jackson on the line.

"I can't talk much. Leese, you have to listen to me. I'm being held inside the hospital. They want to use me in some plan to get the Organization. I…" suddenly, he broke off as there was the sound of somewhere swearing, and then a loud crash as someone broke through glass. Lisa nearly dropped the phone in her surprise.

"Jackson?" she gasped, but all she heard was a scuffle in the background. Then, the line went ominously dead.

"What just happened?" Scarlett asked, fear sneaking over her features.

"Jackson's being held inside the hospital!" Lisa exclaimed, panicking. "We have to get him out of there."

"Hold on, hold on," Scarlett said in a soothing tone, though it was obvious that she wasn't very calm herself. "Why is he in there? Did he say who's holding him?"

"He…no," Lisa said, already forgetting the details in her panic-hazed mind. "But I think someone attacked him. He didn't get the rest of the sentence out…"

"Okay," Scarlett said, sighing heavily. "Vincent?"

"Yeah?" came Vincent's reply from the front seat, moody and forlorn.

"Call Harrison and get another team on the way. This situation just got a whole lot more sensitive."

"Got it," Vincent said, pulling out his phone. Scarlett turned to Lisa, who was staring wide-eyed at the phone in her hands.

"He was using Joe's cell phone," she whispered hoarsely.

"Lisa, I need you to calm down," Scarlett said, looking at her friend fiercely. "We're almost there, and we're going to get them. Look behind us, Lisa. Do you see what I see? I see four cars that are full of our men. We're going to go in there, and we're going to get him back. We're going to get all of them back. Do you understand me?"

"Yeah," Lisa whispered, though she still had the shocked expression on her face.

"Hold on, let me try something," Scarlett said, turning away, knowing that it would take a bit for Lisa's shock to wear off. She picked up her cell phone and looked at it for a moment before scrolling down and clicking on a name, holding the phone to her ear and listening to it ring.

* * *

Jackson was drowning in a world of red. It wasn't a new feeling, but it was never a pleasant one. Hanging between consciousness and unconsciousness was always tricky. You weren't awake enough to really do much, but you couldn't slide into that soothing, healing sleep. 

It was the ringing of the cell phone in his jacket that pulled him out of that state, though it pulled him back to a world of pain and he found himself wishing that he had gone in the other direction instead. He rolled over onto his back, groaning and closing his eyes as the white florescent light above him blinded him. He was locked in one of those storage closets. He reached for the phone in his pocket, hoping that there wasn't a guard outside his door. Opening the phone painfully, he put it to his ear.

"Hello?" he said in a low, hoarse voice.

"Jackson?" asked Scarlett's voice with surprise. "Lisa, Vincent, I got him. Jackson, what the hell happened? You scared the shit out of Lisa."

"I had locked myself in one of the rooms, but they got in," Jackson said. "They didn't see me with the phone, and I hid it in my jacket before they took me to where I am now."

"You're damn lucky they didn't look," Scarlett said, sounding almost pissed off that he was all right. "Where are you now?"

"In some kind of closet," Jackson said, trying to sit up. The pain proved too much even for him, and he laid back against the floor, swearing under his breath.

"Did they get you?" Scarlett asked in a quiet voice, though Jackson knew that quiet wasn't going to do anything. Lisa was probably listening in right there, her ear practically _in _the receiver.

"They got me good," Jackson answered wryly, looking down at the blood spilled all over the ground. He had a feeling that his face was quite a sight. He thought he still had all of his teeth, though, which was a plus.

"We're coming," Scarlett said, growling slightly under her breath. "Here, talk to Lisa. I need to talk to Vincent."

He heard a low murmur, and then the phone was presumably passed hands to a reluctant Lisa.

"J-Jackson?" she stuttered, sounding frightened. "Are you all right? What happened?"

"Someone attacked me and dragged me here," he said, biting back the groan that threatened to escape from his throat at the flash of pain that suddenly came over him. "I was in Leya's room, and they didn't drag me very far. I must be somewhere near there."

Jackson could hear Lisa dimly relaying that information to Scarlett and Vincent.

"We're coming, okay?" Lisa said, sniffling slightly. Jackson could tell that she was crying. "We'll be right there."

"Leese, I'm not scared," Jackson said with a small laugh. "I've been in worse scrapes than this before. I'll be in worse scrapes in the future. You don't need to be reassuring."

"I _do_ need to be reassuring," Lisa retorted, her tone somewhat angry. "Because as much as you pretend that you don't need it, I know you do."

Jackson was silent. He thought about that for a moment. It could have been true, though he honestly didn't know if it was or not. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that some part of him was agreeing. Because some part of him knew that it _was_ true.

"I'll take that as an agreement," Lisa said in that smug voice that she sometimes got when she showed him up at things. She didn't get to use it often, but it always made him smile when she did. She was so much like him sometimes.

"Take it as you will," Jackson said in a tone that was exactly the same. It was a weak defense and they both knew it. She knew she was right. And he knew that their little banter would serve to take away some of the fear she was feeling.

"Stay on the phone," Lisa whispered painfully, and Jackson actually felt something deep within his chest; some constriction or something.

"I will," he replied, his tone normal. He felt like saying something a little more comforting, since he knew that she was really the one who needed comfort. Comfort that he couldn't give her unless he somehow found a way out of that closet.

He got to his feel shakily. A closet. The same type of place where he and Lisa had shared their first kiss. Three months ago. And they still weren't 'together'. Why was that? Why hadn't he taken advantage of the situation? After all, he cared about her and it was obvious that she cared about him. So why hadn't anything happened?

He would have liked to blame it on Jacqueline, definitely, but he knew that he just couldn't. It was more his fault than it was anyone else's. He was the one who couldn't get attached to anyone emotionally. At least, he pretended to himself that he couldn't get attached. He knew that he could. Lisa had proved that he could feel something more than pure attraction. And now with Jacqueline…

He immediately felt guilty thinking about Jacqueline. It felt wrong somehow, thinking about her while he was on the phone with Lisa. Like Lisa could somehow see his thoughts.

"Jackson, we need to talk about something."

Jackson's eyes widened a little bit, and for a delirious second he thought that she _had _heard his thoughts. The beating he had taken had apparently rattled his brain a little bit.

"What about?" he asked, trying to pretend that he didn't know what she meant.

"About stuff," Lisa said vaguely. Jackson sighed.

"Well if we're going to talk, you're going to have to tell me what about eventually," Jackson said flippantly.

"I know," Lisa said with a sigh. "I just…don't know how to say it."

"Jacqueline?" Jackson asked. Lisa sighed heavily; answer enough.

"Yeah," she clarified anyway. "We…um…we really need to talk about that. And…us."

The fear in her voice was present wholly, and he knew why it was there. It was there because she thought she was making a mountain out of a molehill. She thought that she didn't mean anything to him, and she was just taking things way too seriously. He instantly felt guilty, though he wasn't sure if he should or not. His conscience told him yes. His pride told him no.

"I know," he said quietly. "I…I'll be honest, Leese. I'm pretty confused."

That was obviously not the answer that Lisa wanted to hear, and it really wasn't the answer that he wanted to give, either. He wanted to tell her that she was the one he wanted, and that Jacqueline meant nothing, but he just couldn't do that. Jacqueline was the first woman he had actually felt something for. Though it had faded so quickly that he wasn't even sure if it had been real or not, it had still been there. And it was the only time he had ever felt it before Lisa came.

"I'm pretty confused, too," she said with obvious disappointment. She had been hoping he would say something a little nicer too, apparently.

"I don't know how to explain this to you," he said gently. "I don't know if you'd understand."

"Try me," Lisa said quietly. "I'm sure you'll explain it just fine."

He could hear the bitterness in her voice, and he wondered if he should maybe just drop it

"I'm not the kind of guy who usually talks about things," he said instead of listening to the rational part of his brain. "You should know that."

"I know," Lisa confirmed, not sounding impressed.

Suddenly, the absurdity of it all struck Jackson like a blow to the face. He could very well be dead in the next ten minutes, and he was wasting time dodging the subject on his feelings for her. He knew that somewhere inside, she was only insisting on it because she knew it might be the only chance she had to hear him explain what was happening to them. And he was avoiding it because he was afraid of hurting his pride.

"I don't know what's happening," he said in the most sincere voice that he could manage. The simple fact that they were talking about their relationship when he could very well be dead in a few minutes was odd enough on its own. "I don't know anything…but I know that I care about you, Leese. I care about you a lot."

Lisa was silent on the other line, and he somehow knew she was crying.

* * *

They heard the footsteps often. Sometimes, they were quick and urgent. Other times, they were slow and leisurely. The worst ones were the slow and deliberate. Then, they knew the footsteps were hunting for them. 

Eighteen sets of footsteps passed the door before one thought to stop and open it. Leya tried to think of them as footsteps and nothing more as the light flicked on and they could see the shadow of the man standing there. The footsteps came closer to their cart, and she squeezed her eyes closed again, missing the darkness.

"Looks like medical supplies," the footsteps said to a man on a radio, lifting the sheet of the cart in front of theirs. Leya wondered if she would be able to smell him, but she was too afraid to inhale. She was too afraid to breathe. If she had been able to stop her heart from beating, she would have.

"Are you sure?" the voice on the radio asked, ghostly with static.

"Positive," the man said, and then he was walking away. He was walking away, and he wasn't looking back. She felt Joe relax against her and she almost screamed before she remembered who was behind her. She had almost forgotten in that long, endless moment of terror.

And then the lights were off again, and Leya let out a sigh of relief.

* * *

Jessie Laramie had been visiting her mother in the hospital when the men with the guns attacked. She had hidden under her mother's bed when they stormed in and shot the dying woman, miraculously unseen by the attackers. She had almost screamed when she heard the gunshot, but she knew she couldn't. She had never been in a situation like that before, but she knew she had to be quiet. Her natural instincts took over, and she had crouched there for at least ten minutes before she allowed herself to move. 

She didn't look at her mother's body.

As she peeked her head out into the hallway, she had heard gunshots coming from the floor below her. Or it could have been in the next hallway. She didn't know. The echoes on the linoleum made it seem like they were coming from all directions. She just ran from room to room, ducking inside and hiding with grimacing corpses until she was certain no one was coming.

After she had dashed into the fifth room, the shock wore off. She collapsed into one of the chairs, and she cried. She cried for what felt like hours. She cried for herself, for her mother, for all the people lying dead in the hospital. Most of all, she cried because she just didn't know what to do. Her instincts could only get her so far. She had to have some knowledge to rely on, but the truth was that she didn't. She didn't know what to do at all; she had never had anything remotely dangerous happen to her except the time she fell off the swing set and broke her leg when she was ten. That was what happened when her mother was a nurse and afraid to let her daughter do anything that might injure or scar her mentally.

After a while of sobbing, she managed to pull herself together and remind herself that she was alive. That was one thing. Her mother was dead, but her mother had been dying anyway. The gunshot wound to the head was a mercy; it saved her from the hungry cancer in her body. Thinking of it that way helped, though she felt slightly sick to her stomach admitting it.

She peeked out into the hallway again, and then ran gracefully on her toes to the end of the hallway. Her ballet was coming in handy.

As she turned the corner at the end of the hallway, she saw a man standing with his back to her. A gun was held in his hands, and he was stomping his foot on the ground impatiently. Jessie felt a red-hot anger burning inside of her. Just beyond him, she could see the exit sign. He was blocking her way out.

She knew what she had to do, though she didn't want to do it. She remembered her father showing her how to slit a man's throat when she was younger. Her mother was horrified when she walked into the kitchen and saw her adorable angel-haired daughter sitting at the kitchen table, slicing the stalk of a broccoli which had a smiling face taped to it. Her father claimed it was self-defense. Jessie never forgot.

She pulled out the pocket knife she had in her purse. Ever since her father died, she had been a sheltered girl, but he had had enough influence on her to force her to get over some things. It also helped that sometimes she was certain that she had no morals; she would do anything without complaint. She would slit a man's throat without issue. She knew there was something wrong with that, but at the moment, she was more grateful for it than she had ever been about anything in her life.

She crept forward with all the grace of the ballerina she was. The man never knew what got him.

* * *

"We're here," Scarlett said, sighing with heavy relief. Lisa looked up, surprised to see that they had indeed arrived at the hospital. 

"We're here," she repeated to Jackson, though he could undoubtedly hear Scarlett just as well. He could, but hearing Lisa say it somehow made it more real; more reassuring.

"Hurry," was all he said.

Lisa got out of the car, and immediately, Brian rushed towards her.

"Lisa," he said, hugging her comfortingly.

"I've got him on the phone," Lisa said, gesturing to the phone in her hands. "He has Joe's phone…I don't know how he got it."

"They were careless," Jackson said flippantly, though he knew Brian couldn't hear him.

"We can't get in there," Brian said to Lisa. "There are men in the windows who shoot if anyone gets too close."

"How are they planning on getting out of there?" Scarlett asked, walking over. "Have they demanded anything yet? Ransom? Free pass out of the country?"

"No," Brian said. "Nothing."

"Okay," Scarlett said, looking at the windows with careful concentration. She could just see one man's head above his sniper rifle. She pulled out a pistol, aimed, and fired. A simple pistol. And the man was down.

No one noticed except the man who had been shot, and he wasn't about to go telling anyone

"We can handle this," Vincent said, as if Scarlett's actions didn't speak for themselves. Brian nodded respectfully.

"Good," he said. "I'll keep my people here, keep everyone in line. I'd go around the back."

With that, he was gone; pushing through the crowd of horrified onlookers.

"Lisa, stay here," Scarlett said, glancing at her offhand. Lisa shook her head.

"No," she said. Scarlett glanced at her, already annoyed.

"What?" she asked.

"I'm not staying," Lisa replied.

"Lisa, you stay in that fucking car," Jackson growled angrily. Lisa pretended not to hear him.

"I'm going with you," she said. "I can shoot a gun."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you can handle this type of situation," Scarlett said gently.

"She's right," Jackson brayed from the other line. Lisa ignored him again.

"I've handled it before," she said darkly instead. Scarlett sighed.

"I know you have," she said. "And you proved it to all of us. But this is so different. You've never been on the offensive. You've been trying to get out. You haven't been trying to get in. And besides, it's been so long since you've had to fire a weapon. Your aim will probably be way off."

Jackson was silent at that one. He had been secretly giving her lessons on the shooting range when no one else was around. She wanted them, 'just in case'. He reflected briefly that it probably wouldn't be so bad if she went with them. Not that that was even an option, of course. He would never let her do something like that. Not as long as he was still breathing.

"I've been practicing," Lisa said simply. Scarlett stared at her for a long time, watching her eyes. Vincent watched Scarlett, not quite sure what she was doing. Only Lisa seemed to realize what she was doing; she was looking for fear. She wanted to see if Lisa was completely committed to what she wanted to do.

Apparently she liked what she saw, because she nodded.

"All right," she said. "You can come."

"What?" Vincent asked incredulously at the same time the tinny question came from Scarlett's cell phone as well.

"Thank you," Lisa said gratefully to Scarlett. Scarlett just nodded and handed over a weapon.

"Don't make me regret it," she said simply. Lisa just smiled. She turned her back to the group and walked away a few feet.

"So," she said smugly into the phone.

"Lisa, stay in the goddamned car," Jackson warned her threateningly. He knew, however, that Lisa was the one person that threats didn't work on. She knew that when he threatened her, they were always empty ones.

"I'm not staying here while they go off, maybe to get killed, all because you had this ridiculous idea that I can't take care of myself."

"Lisa, get in the car, and stay there," Jackson said, sounding almost mournful.

"You know, Jackson, you're the last person who should be giving out judgment on how to handle yourself," Lisa said, getting slightly annoyed. "You know I can do this. I've done this before."

"No, Lisa, you haven't done this before," Jackson said with the air of a concerned professional. "Every hit is different. Every job is unique. There are new traps, new rewards, and new villains. Every man in there could kill you. Every single one. And any man in there could be smarter than the last man you killed. So you haven't done this job before. I haven't done this job before, and neither has Scarlett. Neither has Vincent. You can never do the same job twice."

Lisa was silent as she stared down at the ground, her weapon held limply in her hands. She knew he was right, of course. Each time it had to be different. There were so many different things that could go wrong. So many things. But she didn't care. She guessed this was where her true feelings for Jackson shone brightly through.

"I don't care," she whispered into the phone. "You know I can do this. Even though I know you're not going to admit it, you know. I can take care of myself. I can save you."

"Leese…"

"No, Jackson," she hissed, prompting looks from both Scarlett and Vincent. "Stop it. You can't stop me from doing this. I need to do this."

"You don't _need _to do anything," Jackson tried hopefully, though there was very little actual hope in his tone. He knew her well enough to know when her mind was made up, and he also knew her well enough to know that when her mind was made up, nothing short of an act of God would keep her from doing what she wanted to do. Seeing as it was too late to mend things with the big man upstairs in time for it to make any real impact on Lisa, Jackson just said a quick prayer of hope to Saint Jerome, patron saint of orphans and the abandoned. Lisa wore his mother's medal around her neck, still, and he prayed for it to keep her safe as it had kept him safe all those years he had been alive.

"I need to do this," Lisa said in reply to his unspoken prayers, and he could feel his throat constricting slightly. He was scared. No, scratch that, he was fucking terrified.

"I hate that you feel like you have to," he said bitterly. "I hate it. I really do. But if you're going to do it, then you're going to do it. Be careful."

"I will," Lisa promised him sincerely, sounding genuinely relieved that he had given his approval. As if it would have mattered at all if he had told her that she couldn't go. She would have strapped on a gun and charged into the building, screaming bloody murder, just to prove him wrong.

"Stay on the phone," he said, though at the same time he wanted nothing more than to hang up the phone. Suffering in silence would probably be better than listening with horror if she was shot and killed. But it was like a train wreck. He couldn't not listen.

"I will," she whispered, and he thought she must have had some idea as to what he was thinking. She sounded scared. He was glad. Fear kept her alive last time, and it would keep her alive again. Though, he reasoned, it was mostly he who had kept her alive last time. He just hoped that Scarlett and Vincent could do what he had.

Lisa looked at the building in front of her. Usually one of hope and life, it was so imposing as she watched it. There were snipers in a few of the windows. She could see them, hiding just out of view. She knew what to look for, thanks to Jackson. She searched every window, as Scarlett did. Vincent was directing his men into place. They all ran around the back of the building, which was completely deserted. Scarlett and Lisa followed them after a few moments.

"We're going to leave a few men behind," Lisa explained. "And then, when we get Jackson out, we're going to have them shoot the snipers in the front windows. That's going to be Brian's signal that we're out safely, and he can start sending his men in."

"Okay," Lisa said, taking the information in like a sponge. Scarlett loved it when Lisa was like that; she was ready to learn and nothing was going to get in her way. She imagined that Lisa must have been an excellent student in high school and college. She knew when to fool around and when to pay attention and do her job. "What are we doing?"

"After the men kill the snipers in the back windows, we're going to go in. You're sticking with Vincent and me the entire time. Got it?"

"Got it," Lisa answered, holding up her hands to indicate that there was no resistance on her part.

"Good," Scarlett said, nodding her head in a satisfied manner. "We're going to sweep every closet. Hopefully with Jackson on the line, we'll have a little help."

"Hopefully," Lisa said, biting her lip. Scarlett could tell from her unfocused eyes that she was worried. She didn't blame her. She was worried too.

"Let's go," Scarlett said, and they walked over to where Vincent was standing. They were standing under the trees surrounding the hospital, hidden in the heavy bushes. Men were all around them, wearing protective gear and carrying guns. Vincent tossed Scarlett and Lisa vests and helmets.

"Put these on," he said. Lisa looked at him like he was crazy, but he just stared back with an expression of utmost seriousness on his face. She sighed and put the vest on. It was exactly her size, but it felt like she expanded at least three feet in each direction. She threw her helmet on without even bothering to put up her hair, and then she secured it under her chin. She felt like a complete idiot. She glanced at Scarlett, who still managed to look good even in all that gear. Vincent similarly looked great. She shook her head.

"You're gonna be okay, Leese," Jackson said encouragingly from the phone, surprising her. She had forgotten he was there, though she had been holding the phone to her ear the entire time.

"I know," she said to him, closing her eyes. "So are you."

Jackson was silent to that, and she felt a horrible fear burning in the pit of her stomach. She needed to hear his affirmation more than anything. She needed him to tell her that he was going to be okay. She needed him to agree with her. Unfortunately, he wasn't going to give her what she needed. He couldn't.

That was when it really hit her, and with dread building in her heart and in her stomach, she followed them into the hospital.


	9. With The Warmth Of Your Arms You Saved

Ugh, so I was planning on doing this last night, but then my power went out at midnight and I had to use my laptop as a flashlight so I never got around to it lol.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter! Please review again!

**Jen: **hehe, and here's another chapter for you! Thanks for reviewing!

**Lorelle: **haha I'm glad you liked Lisa walking in on Vincent and Scarlett. That was one of my personal favorite parts too. Setting your homepage as Red Eye fanfiction was a smart move!  
I wish I had gotten the chance to see Phantom of the Opera on stage too. That would be amazing!  
Hahaha, ooooo Basil good with the ladies. Niiiice. I'm glad you're okay with the slow build-up!  
Hehehe I love getting people hooked on things! Dance Inside is my second favorite song, next to Move Along! Hehehe! HUGS! Thanks for reviewing!

**Gladys Bagg: **Hehehe Well, here's a new one! Thanks for reviewing!

**Joelle: **hahah I'm glad you liked the Lisa walking in on Vincent and Scarlett thing too! That seemed to be a lot of people's favorite part. Thank you for the compliments :D And thank you for reviewing!

* * *

**Chapter 9: **With the Warmth of Your Arms You Saved Me

Memories, sharp as daggers  
Pierce into the flesh of today  
Suicide of love took away all that matters  
And buried the remains in an unmarked grave in your heart

With the venomous kiss you gave me  
I'm killing loneliness (Killing loneliness)  
**With the warmth of your arms you saved me**,  
Oh, I'm killing loneliness with you  
I'm killing loneliness that turned my heart into a tomb  
I'm killing loneliness

Nailed to the cross, together  
As solitude begs us to stay  
Disappear in the lie forever  
And denounce the power of death over our souls and secret words are said to start a war

With the venomous kiss you gave me  
I'm killing loneliness (Killing loneliness)  
**With the warmth of your arms you saved me**,  
Oh, I'm killing loneliness with you  
I'm killing loneliness that turned my heart into a tomb  
I'm killing loneliness

Killing loneliness

With the venomous kiss you gave me  
I'm killing loneliness (Killing loneliness)  
**With the warmth of your arms you saved me**

**Killing Loneliness  
****HIM

* * *

**

Jackson paced his room like a caged animal, listening for any sound in the phone clutched to his ear. They had gone silent. The only things he could hear were the occasional scuffle of sneaker on tile, or the muttered curse. And there was the breathing. Those few dim lights of hope were the only things that kept him going

"You're gonna be okay," he whispered to Lisa, though he didn't know if she heard him or not. It was maddening, not being able to hear a response from her. He wanted to scream out his frustration. Not that it mattered much anyway.

He sat down on the ground, the phone cradled in his hand. His ear was starting to sweat, but he wouldn't take that phone away if he were threatened with his life. He hated the feeling of being a spectator to everything that was going on, while being helpless to do anything about it. He was used to being out in the open and out front with the big boys. And even when he had been trapped in places, there had always been something for him to do.

He looked around the room dismally. There was nothing but a few boxes of rubber gloves on the shelves. No vents, no loose floor tiles. Nothing. He hated hospitals.

"Don't move," whispered Scarlett, somewhere near the phone. Jackson ceased his examination of the room and froze, closing his eyes as if that would help him hear better.

There was complete silence for a few moments. Nothing moved, and he couldn't hear anyone breathing. Though he knew that it was a good thing that they weren't making any noise, it still frightened him. He hated being in the dark.

Then, there was the squeak of a shoe on a tile. Another. Another. Someone was walking. Jackson tensed, drawing in a sharp breath. Then, there was gunfire.

* * *

Leya and Joe both jumped with surprise when they heard the gunshots outside the door. They clutched one another fearfully, their eyes growing wide in the dark, as if trying to see if the shooters were really in their room. Leya's hand found Joe's again in the dark, and their fingers intertwined. Each drawing strength from the other, they found themselves audio witnesses to everything that went on outside. Someone screamed endlessly; a horrible, tearing scream. The kind of scream that people make when they can't take the pain anymore.

The gunfire continued for a few minutes, always with that dying scream in the background. Other screams joined the first and then died easily, but that one continued. It seemed to last years, though it had to have only been a few seconds. Then, there was silence except for that horrible scream. After a moment, there was another gunshot, and the scream was silenced.

It was over so quickly and it had come upon them so suddenly that they weren't sure how to react. They just sat there, listening to the survivors talking outside. They both knew that there had been two sides to that gun battle; the bad guys and the unknown guys. They weren't willing to risk everything just to go out there and see who it was who had won the battle. After all, the unknown could very well be worse than the bad.

The voices continued for a few seconds, and then they heard a decidedly female voice talking to someone, getting closer. There was the slight jiggle that gave away that the door was opening. Then, light spilled into the room.

"No," the female voice said. "Not this one."

Joe's ears perked up suddenly. That voice was familiar. He glanced over at Leya and saw that her eyes were narrowed slightly, as if she was trying to figure out who the voice was. Then, he saw her eyes go wide as she realized who was speaking. She pulled out of Joe's grasp and burst from under the table, tumbling and falling and rolling and probably hurting herself even more. There was a little scream of surprise, and then Joe followed her, horrified that something might have happened to her.

"Leya! Joe!" yelled the woman's voice. He tore his eyes away from Leya, who was slowly starting to get up, and he saw that it was Lisa who was standing in front of them.

"Lisa!" Joe exclaimed happily, hauling himself to his feet and grabbing Leya around the waist, helping her up as well. Lisa ran to them and wrapped her arms around the both of them with a motherly fierceness. After she made sure that her weapon was out of the way, of course.

"Kids, oh my God, are you all right?" she asked, checking them both over for injury. Scarlett and Vincent hurried in, along with a bunch of people that Leya knew by face only, and Mike Turland.

"Glad you're okay, kid," Vincent said, ruffling Leya's hair. He nodded to Joe politely. Joe stifled a sigh; no one much liked him because how he treated Leya.

"Have you guys seen Jackson?" Scarlett asked. They glanced at each other, and then Leya opened her mouth. Then, the world was thrown into chaos.

* * *

Harrison and Jacqueline had been sitting in an awkward silence for about five minutes when Harrison's phone rang. He thanked God for saving him and picked it up, trying not to sound too relieved but honestly not particularly caring whether or not she noticed.

"Yeah?" he asked into the phone.

"It's Tom," said a creaking voice on the line. "We need you over here."

"Hey, Tom," Harrison said, chuckling slightly. "How you doing? I didn't know they let an old bat like you go with them."

"I caught them on the way out," Tom said, chuckling at the comment. "You know how I feel about Leya. I had to go with them."

"Did you find her?" Harrison asked, noticing that Tom didn't seem to be upset.

"Yeah, we got them," Tom said happily. "We're still looking for Jackson, though."

"Jackson's in the building?"

"Apparently," Tom said. "I don't think anyone's really sure what happened. But, look, Scarlett wants you down here now. She says to walk in the back door."

"Why does she want me?" Harrison asked, making a face. He didn't like fieldwork, and Scarlett knew that. She didn't usually make him participate in it, but there were some instances when she insisted that he had to be there. They weren't numerous instances, but they were numerous enough to be annoying.

"I don't know," Tom answered. "She told me to tell you. There was some kind of an incident and she has to fix something."

"All right, whatever," Harrison said, fast losing interest in the conversation. "I'll be there in like ten minutes."

"Okay," Tom said, and then there was a click as he hung up.

Harrison excused himself from Jacqueline and escorted her out of the lab, locking it behind him and sending her on her merry way (he wasn't going to trust her with all the computer equipment. Not yet.)

He walked down the hallway towards the garage with his mind full of unease. He didn't think it was a good idea for Tom to be there. Tom was older than anyone at the complex, and was mostly only still there because he had been Jimmy's oldest friend. Harrison had heard the story more times than he could count. He could practically recite it word for word. Tom's story never changed. Not ever.

* * *

The story that Harrison was told was the story of Jimmy's life as a young man. A lot of people in the complex didn't really know exactly what had happened. They didn't know because they hadn't been willing to sit through Tom's long-winded recollection. The only reason Harrison knew at all was because he had been stuck with the man for three hours in the computer lab one day, and Tom had decided to tell him. He didn't regret listening to that story, because it was one that he knew he would remember forever.

Tom started off with one note. He said that he wanted to make it clear that he 'wasn't no heroin addict no more. Ain't been since ol' Jimmy set me straight'. He wanted to make it very clear that the Thomas Belmont in the story was a very different man from the one telling it. Then, he went on to the rest.

Jimmy and Amora had been married for less than a year when Jimmy had come to the complex looking for a job. His father Christopher had run the complex then, and had used it to house his drug operation that he had been running for many years. The complex back then was simple and dirty; certainly not the sanitary safe haven it had been during Jimmy's reign. Christopher was a good man, though, Tom was quick to point out. He was a man who didn't care about himself, but cared more about others than Tom had ever seen. Barring the fact, of course, that he was a drug dealer.

The first time that Tom met Jimmy was when Christopher was introducing his son to the regulars. Tom was a young man of thirty, then, and he had been impressed with the way that Jimmy carried himself. Jimmy was only eighteen at the time, but he acted just like his father. He had approached Jimmy immediately and introduced himself. Jimmy had looked him straight in the eye and said 'I can see why my father has talked so highly of you'.

Tom went on to become a great family friend. Every so often, he would clean himself up and head over to Jimmy's house to eat dinner with the family. He was pretending to be an associate of Jimmy's from work. Amora was a smart woman, but she never saw through their lie. She would just smile and nod at them while she fed baby James, pretending that she cared about their stocks and their investments.

Then, when Baby James had died at four years old, Tom had been the one who had to pick up the pieces that were left of Jimmy's life. Jimmy had started using, and Tom helped him get what he needed. At the time, he had thought that it would be a good idea to help him ease the pain. He couldn't have known that he was only making it worse. So much worse. It was Christopher who finally got Jimmy to stop using. "Son," Tom quoted. "You may have lost a boy. But you sure as hell ain't lost a wife yet. By God, son, don't you forget that".

Jimmy took his advice and began to devote himself to making Amora happy. Unfortunately, there wasn't much that he could do. He would take her out on the town with Tom and another friend, Brian Greene. They would go out together and they would eat and go to the movies with whatever girlfriends Tom or Brian had at the moment. After a while, they started to see the brightness coming back to Amora's smile.

That was when she died. The one night that Tom hadn't gone with them was the one night that he should have. When he found out that Amora was dead, he had been crushed beyond all belief. It was like when she was alive, there was some hope left in him. Once she was gone, it felt as if there was no need for life. Jimmy had felt the same way, and the two of them had once again gotten into heroin.

One night when they were both so full of heroin that they were liable to start shitting it, Jimmy got the notion that he should put a gun to his head and end it all. Tom told him that he'd only let him do it if he could borrow the gun afterwards. They fully intended to go through with it, but then Christopher happened to walk into the room. When he saw what they were doing, he abruptly cut them off. Though they were sour at first, and though they went through a ton of pain, they were eventually able to realize that he was right. They couldn't go wasting their lives on that stuff. They just couldn't.

When Christopher died, a few months later, Jimmy kicked everyone out. All the addicts, the free-loaders, and the junkies. Everyone. He set up another place for them to go, of course, but he didn't want them in the complex. Instead, he holed himself up in his room for weeks and barely came out. Tom had been kicked out with the rest of them, but he knew that it was only Jimmy's grief that did it. So he waited, and eventually he managed to get back in. He talked Jimmy out of his depression. And then he helped Jimmy clean the place up. He helped Jimmy find friends to help them out. He helped Jimmy when Jimmy got the crazy idea that they should be finding orphans, or people who no one would miss. And he was there until the end. "Until the fucking end" he used to say. And then he would get all teary-eyed, and he would trail off, and that would be the end of the story. But that would be enough, because anyone listening wouldn't want to hear anymore. They didn't need to hear anymore. And even if they were so sick of listening to him that they were thinking about how they would love to get shitted and stick a gun in their mouths, there wasn't one person who heard it that didn't take something away from it.

* * *

The men who surrounded them shot Mike Turland first. Then, they shot Steven Harding, and then Terry Bryce. Next, they shot Jameson Walker before everyone else started shooting back. Scarlett shot two of them, Vincent shot three, and even Lisa managed to shoot two before they were completely surrounded. Everyone was dead but them, and Scarlett had a feeling that that wasn't a coincidence. Whoever was in charge of the operation had told the men surrounding them that they wanted them alive.

Scarlett, however, wasn't about to give up. She fired a few rounds into one man's bullet-proof vest, and he doubled over long enough that she could kick out at him and hit him in the chest. He flew backwards and hit the doorjamb with his back in a way that was going to be very painful later. Then, she heard the cocking of a rifle. She turned and saw that one of the men had it to Vincent's head. She gasped with fear, but at the same time glared at him angrily. He looked down at the ground, obviously upset. He knew that he shouldn't have allowed himself to be compromised. Scarlett threw her gun on the ground venomously and glared at the man standing closest to her. He sighed with obvious relief.

"Come on," one of them said gruffly, though each of them heard the relief in his voice. Scarlett glanced at Lisa, who nodded and lifted up her shirt slightly. There was a single pistol strapped under her vest. Scarlett turned back to face their captors, smiling eerily and unzipping her vest, her hand resting on the gun inside.

* * *

Harrison walked down the hallway of the hospital nervously, a gun clutched in his sweating hand. He had forgotten how much he hated that element of the job; the hunting. Anything with guns, really, but especially the hunting. He hated being somewhere where he had never been, and having to look for something. He hated it.

He had tried to call Tom when he was almost to the hospital, but there had been no answer. He figured Tom was already in the building. When he got to the hospital, he had hunted down Brian Greene. Brian hadn't recalled seeing Tom, but he had directed Harrison towards where Scarlett, Vincent, and the others had entered the building. Harrison had followed Brian's directions precisely, and he had eventually ended up in the hallway.

He hated that hallway more than anything. It reminded him of one of the first missions he was forced to go on as a young man. It had been in a business establishment with stark white walls and white linoleum floors with little green flecks in the tiles. His echoing footfalls had seemed to be the echoes of his footsteps in the past. He seemed to be walking down an endless linoleum hell of a hallway, moving ever onward to despair and away from any hope he might have. He was melodramatic and he knew it, but that didn't change the fact that ever since then, linoleum floors had held some kind of symbol for him. One that reminded him that at that point, he still could have turned back. He could have been something other than a killer.

Pushing those thoughts out of his mind, he forced himself to focus on the task ahead of him. He listened for any sound. Any movement of sharp intake of breath or squeak of a shoe on the tile. But there was nothing. He stopped in the middle of the hallway and closed his eyes, because unbelievably, that helped him. He could always hear better when he closed his eyes

Then, he heard it. Short sobs. Barely audible, but just loud enough so that he could hear it over the deafening roar of silence. He raised his gun half-threateningly, and started walking towards the sound. Fortunately, the sobs didn't echo like his footsteps, and he could tell exactly where they were coming from. He neared a corner and poked his head around. There was a man lying on the floor with blood all around him. Harrison noticed with some trepidation that the man's throat was slit. It wasn't he who had been sobbing, obviously.

Glancing up and down the corridor to make sure that no one was sneaking up on him, Harrison walked slowly to the doorway from where the cries were emanating. He poked his head around the corner and saw a gun lying on the floor. The cries were coming from behind the bed.

"Is someone in there?" he asked in his most gentle voice, trying to send the message that he wasn't going to hurt whoever was in there. "Don't worry, I'm here to help."

A small blonde head appeared over the top of the bed, and he hurriedly hid his gun from view. The woman attached to the blonde head was very beautiful, and looked to be in her early to middle twenties. She was thin and poised. Harrison's first impression was that she looked just like what one would imagine an angel to look like.

"Who are you?" she asked warily, her eyes drifting to the gun on the floor.

"My name is Harrison," Harrison answered, holding up a hand. His eyes stayed firmly on hers. If she showed any sign of moving towards that gun, he was going to have to act. "Harrison Dixon. I'm here to help."

"You said that already," the blonde girl said, looking up at him with a burning intensity. "I'm Jessie."

"Okay, Jessie," Harrison said, mildly relieved. The exchanging of the names was a show of trust. "Who's the man outside?"

Jessie's face held no traces of the crying she had obviously been doing, but at the mention of that man, the corners of her eyes crumbled a little bit. Her mouth didn't show any emotion, but it didn't have to. The eyes said it all. There was hatred there, and remorse, and sadness. She had obviously been crying because of that man.

"I killed him," Jessie said harshly. "I had to kill him. He was blocking the exit. But then I couldn't do it. I couldn't go on. So I hid here."

Harrison nodded in understanding.

"You made the right choice," he said calmly to her. "He would have killed you if you didn't."

Her face crumbled some more, and he knew that she had been waiting to hear those words. She wanted to know if it was bad that she didn't feel anything for what she had done. He knew that look well. He had seen it many times in Jackson's eyes.

"I know," she said quietly.

"Come on," he said, gesturing to her. He didn't realize until too late that he had gestured to her with the hand that was holding his gun. As soon as she saw the gun, her eyes went wide with horror, and she snapped out of her trance, leaping over the bed with deadly grace. Harrison didn't have time to curse; he just dove for the girl. They collided in mid-air, and dropped to the ground with a sickening crunch. Harrison took advantage of the fact that she was stunned and didn't know what to do, and he grabbed her wrists, pinning them by her side. Straddling her, he made sure his head was far enough away from hers so that she wouldn't be able to head-butt him.

"Let me go," she growled dangerously, bucking him. He glanced at his gun, which he had dropped by the doorway.

"I don't have time for this," Harrison hissed. "My friends are somewhere in this building, and they need me. Now, I told you the truth. I'm not here to hurt you. I was here to help you. I'm not one of them."

"Then what are you?" Jessie asked, practically hissing her words. "A cop?"

"Not quite," Harrison replied. "We don't exactly work for anyone. We work for ourselves."

Jessie stared at him blankly. Harrison sighed.

"Look, all you need to know is that I'm not going to hurt you. So I just need you to calm down for a few seconds. I'll help you out of here if you come with me, or you can go your own separate way."

"Okay," Jessie said. Harrison looked at her blankly.

"Okay?" he asked, surprised. He hadn't expected her to cooperate at all. Girls like her usually never did. They were far too concerned with the fact that he could rape them.

"If you were going to kill me, you would have done it already," Jessie said simply. "And if you were just going to rape me, you could do it right now. Since you seem to know what you're doing, I'll go with you."

She looked at him with eyes that hid everything, but he knew that he could trust her.

"Okay," he said simply. He let go of her wrists slowly and stood up, plucking the two guns off the floor before turning to face her. She had grabbed her purse from behind the bed. He thought that was a funny thing to do when one was in a crisis situation, but he supposed that everyone needed something to hold on to to make everything seem so much less scary.

"Where are your friends?" Jessie asked, eyeing him warily.

"That's the problem," Harrison said, shrugging. "I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Jessie asked. "Aren't you…?"

Suddenly, there were gunshots. Harrison grabbed Jessie's hand and without a word pulled her out of the room. He judged that they were coming from the floor above him, so he pulled her towards the exit sign. They burst into the stairwell, and he ran up the stairs, pleased when Jessie met him stride for stride. There was nothing he hated more than saving someone just to find out that they were as slow as molasses.

"Why are we running towards that?" Jessie asked, terrified.

"If you want to stay here, stay here," Harrison replied. Jessie didn't stop running.

They reached the landing, and Harrison looked into the window that was in the door. Jessie looked through the other one. There was some kind of firefight going on between men wearing all black and people standing in a doorway who were hidden from view.

"What do we do?" Jessie asked. Then, Harrison saw Vincent's blonde hair flashing out of the closet as he kicked someone in the face. He smiled.

"Wait here," he said. And then he threw open the door.

* * *

Jackson kicked the door for the sixteenth time. He heard it splinter some more. He was going mad with fear and claustrophobia. He felt like a caged animal. He heard the gunshots, just down the hall, and he heard the shouts and screams. Lisa was over there, he told himself. Lisa was in there.

He kicked the door again, and this time there was a loud crack. He felt the door give a little. One more kick should do it. He drew back his foot like a spring and let it all unload on the door. The hinges popped, and the door flung open. Jackson burst into the hallway and nearly collided with Harrison. They glanced at each other, surprised.

"What…?" Jackson asked.

"Jackson…?" Harrison sputtered. They stared at each other for a moment longer, and then Harrison tossed Jackson one of the guns he was holding. He had two. Jackson nodded, and they both continued down the hallway together towards the group of men.

* * *

Jessie watched with horror as Harrison and the man he had called Jackson ran into the gunfight, yelling and shooting their weapons. The Jackson man used his gun as a battering ram to smash skulls and break bones, but Harrison fired like a crazed man, his mouth open in a scream that could not be heard from where she hid behind the door. The men in the black fell to the ground, dead or wounded, writhing in pain. Harrison shot the wounded again. Jessie felt herself feeling sick, not because of what she was seeing, but more because of the fact that what she was seeing didn't bother her. She was glad that those bastards were dying. They had killed her mother. She was glad they were dying.

"Jackson, look out!" screamed a voice from inside the room. Jessie saw that a man was pointing a gun at Jackson. Before Jackson could even turn around, a blur of brown had tackled the man to the ground. A woman, not much older than Jessie herself, landed on top of him and closed her eyes before putting a gun to his head and squeezing the trigger. She didn't look at the body when she got up.

* * *

Lisa staggered away from the man she had killed, her stomach aching hollowly. She was glad she hadn't eaten anything earlier in the day, or she would have felt sick. With one final shot from Harrison's gun, the men were all down. Lisa turned to Jackson, bloody and dirty, and he looked back at her, even worse. For a long moment, they just stared at each other, and then Lisa walked the few steps separating them and threw her arms around his neck. His arms encircled her waist, and he lay his head against hers, kissing her hair.

"I'm so glad you're okay," she whispered to him gently.

"I'm ecstatic that you're all right," Jackson replied, smiling at her.

Neither of them saw the man behind them beginning to rise.

"Look out!" yelled a voice from down the corridor, near the exit sign. Jackson automatically turned Lisa towards the wall, shielding her from harm. Harrison's weapon rose up. But it was too late. The man turned into the closet and fired. Harrison shot the man rapidly seven times. He danced comically for a few moments as the bullets hit him, and then he fell to the floor.

From within the closet, the screaming began.


	10. You Are Everything I Want

Okay, so, here's the update. Sorry it took so long. Summer vacation and all that nonsense. I have a life. I know, shocking. I started editing this today, and was actually about to update when I got a review that kind of pissed me off. I'm sorry I don't have all the time in the world to write and update this thing, but I've been going through a lot of crap lately, and I don't have the time to sit here and veg in front of the computer. Everyone who reviews, I love you all for taking the time to read this because I know how little time everyone has. Just please don't get on me about the updating thing. I will get around to it, you can be sure. I don't need anyone to remind me.

Thanks for reviewing. Please review again.

Oh yes, and, I made a new Xanga. I think I made one a while ago, but then my sister found it so I deleted it because she makes fun of me. So if anyone has a Xanga, add me and such. My name is x3letoloverx3. Come see my Xanga. Tis pretty :D

**Jen:** haha, I'm glad I could make you dance with joy. Now you will finally see what happened. Thanks for reviewing!

**Lorelle:** haha you're not supposed to know who got shot. You only know that it was someone in the closet. You'll find out! And thank you for the compliment on my taste in music :D thanks for reviewing!

**Joelle:** Yep, Harrison was the one doing the shooting. So he's good for now lol. You'll see where Jessie goes. Thanks for reviewing!

**Jacinta: **Hereeee you go :D

* * *

**Chapter 10: **You Are Everything I Want

_You've got this new head filled up with smoke  
__And I've got my veins all tangled close  
__To the jukebox bars you frequent;  
__Tthe safest place to hide  
__A long night spent with your most obvious weakness  
__You start shaking at the thought  
__**You are everything I want,  
**_'_Cus you are everything I'm not_

_And we lie, we lie together  
__Just not too close, too close  
__(How close is close enough?)  
__And we lie, we lie together  
__Just not too close, too close_

_I just wanna break you down so badly  
__Well, I trip over everything you say  
__I just wanna break you down so badly  
__In the worst way_

_Well, my inarticulate store bought  
__Hangover hobby kit it talks  
__And it says "you, oh, you are so cool"  
__Scissor-shaped across the bed  
__You are red, violent red  
__You hollowed out my hungry eyes  
__You hollowed out my hungry eyes_

_And we lie, we lie together  
__Just not too close, too close  
__(How close is close enough?)  
__And we lie, we lie together  
__Just not too close, too close_

_I just wanna break you down so badly  
__Well, I trip over everything you say  
__I just wanna break you down so badly  
__In the worst way  
__I just wanna break you down so badly  
__Well, I trip over everything you say  
__I just wanna break you down so badly  
__In the worst way  
__Worst way_

_I'm gonna make damn sure  
__That you can't ever leave  
__No, you won't ever get too far from me  
__You won't ever get too far from me  
__I'll make damn sure  
__That you can't ever leave  
__No, you won't ever get too far from me  
__You won't ever get too far from m  
__You won't ever get too far from me  
__You won't ever get too far_

_I just wanna break you down so badly  
__Well, I trip over everything you say  
__I just wanna break you down so badly  
__In the worst way  
__I just wanna break you down so badly  
__Well, I trip over everything you say  
__I just wanna break you down so badly  
__In the worst way  
__Worst way_

**MakeDamnSure  
**Taking Back Sunday

* * *

"Oh my God," Leya sobbed, tearing her eyes away from the sight in front of her. Joe wrapped his arms around her and pulled her away from the center of the closet. Their legs both gave out at the same instant, and they landed on the ground in a way that would have been comical in any other situation.

"Oh my fucking…" Joe whispered, his eyes glued to the body lying on the ground. Lisa and Jackson ran in, both of them with their eyes and mouths wide open in horror.  
"No…no…" Vincent whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. He was already on his knees. Scarlett stared at the ceiling, shivering already. Blood spread around her on the floor, and her hands weakly clenched into fists and then unclenched again.

"Oh my God, someone get an ambulance!" Lisa exclaimed, clutching at Jackson weakly before her knees gave out. Jackson tried to hold her up, but he found himself sitting on the floor beside her, staring at Scarlett with a dazed expression.

"Someone…" Leya gasped, not able to finish the sentence. But no one wanted to go get an ambulance. No one wanted to move. Finally, they could hear Harrison running down the hallway.

* * *

Harrison ran blindly, not hearing anything but the echoing on the red-stained tiles and the beating of his own heart. He didn't hear the ragged breathing of Scarlett or the frantic sobbing of Vincent. He didn't hear Lisa's cries or Jackson's whispered reassurances. Or maybe he did hear all of those things and just convinced himself that he didn't. Convinced himself that one of his closest friends wasn't dying behind him.

Running down the hallway felt like running back in time, and he felt that if he only kept running, straight out the door, then he would be able to prevent it. Like if he left, everyone inside would slowly rewind themselves until there was no problem at all, and no need for a solution.

But then he turned into a hospital room, and leaned out the window. He saw Brian down below, illuminated by his haste and his fear.

"Brian!" he yelled. Brian looked up, mid-sentence, surprised to see Harrison practically hanging out the window.

"What is it?" he shouted up, sensing that there was something wrong.

"We need help!" Harrison yelled back, well aware that there were hundreds of eyes on him all at once, accusing and fearful. "It's Scarlett!"

Brian didn't need to hear anything else. He turned to the man who he had been talking to, and then they both shot off into the crowd, moving towards the paramedics, who had already heard everything. Harrison turned back to the door, and he saw Jessie standing there.

"She's screaming," Jessie whispered, her eyes filled with a steely resolve to stay unattached. "She won't stop."

In his three months of knowing Scarlett, he had never heard her scream. He tried to not listen for it, but he could feel his ears pricking up to hear her despite it. He heard it, dim now, but still chilling.

"You should go," he said, though he didn't tell his mouth to say the words. He felt unattached from the rest of his body, and he thought he might collapse. Only he wasn't swaying or dizzy; he was standing as straight as he could.

"I can't go," Jessie said quietly, looking back down the hallway. "Is she going to be okay?"

Harrison didn't want to have to answer that. He didn't want to have to say 'I don't know'. He didn't want to have to realize that that was true, and that he really _didn't_ know if she was going to be okay. That it was a possibility that she would not be okay.

"She's amazing," he said instead. Jessie watched him for a few minutes, nodding thoughtfully as if that had been some kind of deep statement rather than a simple avoidance of the question.

"I'm sorry," she said, and Harrison was suddenly angry with her. He wanted to shout at her that she had nothing to be sorry about because no one was dead, and no one was going to die. If anything, he should have been the sorry one. He didn't move fast enough. He saw that man aiming his gun straight at Scarlett; saw that her vest was unzipped, and he just stared at him. He let him shoot her. Jessie couldn't be sorry because Jessie had warned them all.

"Stop," he said, though he wasn't sure if it was to the voices in his head or to Jessie. "Just…stop."

"I'm sorry," she said again. Harrison sank onto the empty hospital bed. He put his head in his hands. He felt the bed depress slightly as she sat down next to him. "They killed my mother," she said suddenly. He looked up at her and saw that she was looking at her hands, which rested in her lap. "She was down the hall a little ways. She had cancer so…she was dying as it was. But still. They killed her. A defenseless old woman, just lying in her bed. They didn't see me; I hid under the bed. I thought they couldn't _possibly _kill a woman dying of cancer. So I hid, and I left her exposed. And she died." Jessie pulled his hands away from his face and looked at him with such firmness that he felt slightly ashamed of himself. "If I had only known that they were going to kill everyone, I might have been able to save her. She's dead because of me."

Harrison knew that that story was supposed to make him feel better. He didn't know how it was meant to make him feel better, or why. But it did.

The paramedics rushed by the door. Jessie turned and looked out as they rushed forward. A S.W.A.T. team followed. Harrison vaguely wondered if Jackson and Vincent would be able to explain their presence and their possession of weapons in their grieved state.

"I'm sorry," he said to Jessie suddenly, looking at her face. She really was beautiful. Her eyes were so bright, so lively. They didn't match with the frown on her face.

"I'm sorry too," she whispered. They stared at each other. "Take me somewhere else."

"Okay," Harrison said. He paused. "Okay."

* * *

Lisa sat on the floor of the closet, her knees drawn up to her chest as she stared at the flower of blood that bloomed on the floor. Though Scarlett was gone, the blood remained, staining the linoleum floor. She could smell it. She felt as if it were covering her entire body. She thought with fright that if she took a hundred showers, it wouldn't wash away the smell.

The other bodies were all gone. Blood remained where they lay as well, but their stains weren't as bright. They weren't as pronounced. They weren't as important. Scarlett's blood seemed to draw her in. She wondered, with sick fascination, if she could lean over the stain and see herself in the reflection. She almost leaned forward before she decided that even if she could, she didn't want to. The symbolism was too real.

She didn't know how long she had been sitting there, and sometimes she forgot why she was even there at all. She just rubbed the toe of her sneaker, where there was a scuffed spot, and she slowly wiped away the black skid mark on it. Piece by piece, it flaked away until there was nothing there but whiteness. And still she rubbed.

She heard him enter, but she didn't look up. She focused all her energy on rubbing that shoe. Nothing else mattered, because nothing else would make her happy.

"Leese?"

She closed her eyes, feeling her carefully built wall of sanity beginning to dissolve. She felt her entire body beginning to tremble, and she looked up at him. His face crumbled as well, and he sat on the ground beside, her, wrapping both arms around her and pulling her into an embrace that was comforting yet damning at the same time. It meant admitting that there was something wrong. Neither of them wanted that. But they needed each other.

"Is she going to be okay?" she asked Jackson, clutching his arms tightly and pulling back to look in his eyes. Jackson pressed his forehead against hers and wrapped his arm around her neck, pulling her flat against him.

"I don't know," he whispered. He refused to break down, but he was dangerously close to the edge. "She's going to be okay."

Lisa didn't care that he had just horribly contradicted himself. She didn't care because that was what she needed to hear. She didn't need the truth; she knew the truth. She needed a lie. She needed a lie more than anything she had ever needed.

"Where's Leya?" she asked, raising her head up to look around. "Joe? Harrison?"

"They're fine," Jackson said. He didn't know where they were. He vaguely remembered Leya and Joe walking out of the room, but he didn't remember if they had said where they were going. They probably hadn't, he reasoned. No one was really in their right mind. No one was really paying attention anyway. "Come on, let's go."

Despite the urgency in his voice, he didn't move. Neither of them really wanted to go anywhere. They didn't want to leave that blossoming spot of blood on the floor, which had once been safely beating through the veins of their friend. There was something oddly comforting about that blood, as if it were a symbol of vitality rather than death.

"Let's go," she said finally, and Jackson got to his feet, reaching out his hand for her. She took it and let him pull her up. His hands lingered on her waist, and he looked down at her with a fierce look that she recognized from their first encounter.

"Don't think about this," he said, pulling himself together and realizing that he had to take control even though he felt like he was falling apart inside. "Don't let yourself."

"Okay," she whispered, more for his benefit than out of actual agreement. She had a feeling that part of him knew that, but it was good for the both of them to pretend that she felt better.

Jackson took her hand, and he led her out of the closet. Brian was standing out there, a hand to his forehead as he waited for them.

"Is she okay?" he asked Jackson. Jackson nodded and slipped a hand around Lisa's shoulders. Lisa allowed herself to be led down the hallway. Brian fell into step beside them, looking nervous.

"We're still hunting down the guys who got away," he said. "We haven't been able to catch any of them alive."

"Looks like your men aren't as efficient as you think they are," Jackson said with a heavy sigh.

"My men are efficient," Brian said with a touch of annoyed pride. "But these men are even more so."

"They work for Tom," Jackson said suddenly. Everyone looked at Jackson with surprise.

"Tom?" Brian asked.

"Belmont," Jackson agreed with a nod. Brian's eyebrows drew together, and he stared at Jackson with utter shock.

"What?" he asked, horrified.

"He was the one who got me," Jackson said apologetically. "I don't know why. I don't even know if he was the leader of this thing. But he was involved, I know that much."

Brian stopped in his tracks, running a hand through his hair thoughtfully.

"I can't believe it," he said, sounding extremely let down. "Tommy Belmont. Wow."

Jackson clapped a hand on his father's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he said. Brian just nodded.

"Yeah," he said.

Jackson and Brian didn't ever talk much, needless to say. It was always a little awkward when they were together. But they seemed to grow with disaster. Whenever there was a problem, they always came together, and they always fixed it together. They were a reluctant team, forged literally by blood and held together by memories of the same woman.

"Why would Tom do something like that?" Lisa asked suddenly. Jackson and Brian glanced at her, looking slightly surprised that she had spoken.

"I don't know," Jackson said after a long pause. He looked down at the ground while he walked. He didn't know what else to say. But it seemed to be enough because Lisa didn't ask for an explanation. She just nodded and continued walking, a frown on her pretty face. Brian sighed heavily and put a hand to his forehead.

"I can't even begin to wonder," he said. "Why didn't you tell them that on the phone? That's the whole damn reason why Harrison came running over here! He said that Tom called him and told him that Scarlett wanted him to come down."

"Why would they want Harrison here?" Jackson asked with confusion.

"Why did they keep us alive and kill the others?" Lisa added in. Jackson paused to consider that as well.

"We need to find Tom," he declared, and the obvious agreement went unspoken. Though when even Jackson didn't know what to do, it was clear that there were dire times ahead of them.

* * *

Leya watched the scenery pass them by as they drove down the street at a snail-like pace.

"You can speed up a little," she said to Joe, a small flicker of amusement burning just below the surface of dismay and pain. "Last time, we were run off the road. You're really a good driver. I'm sure you're not going to crash or anything."

"I want to be safe," Joe said with his teeth gritted in concentration. Leya sighed and sat up further, wincing as she did so. Joe glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, panic fleeting across his features.

"Look," Leya said gently, staring at him as he drove. He had a little bit of stubble growing on his cheeks. It made him look so much older than he was. "I know I can't tell you to not blame yourself. I know that you'll blame yourself no matter what I do, because that's just who you are. But know this; if you spend one more minute trying to make up for it, I'll personally see to it that you end up back at the hospital with more bones broken than you knew you had."

Usually, this would produce a laugh, and then Joe would remind her who always won their randomly frequent wrestling matches. (That, of course, would be a joke. Joe may have been stronger, but he had one weakness. He was extremely ticklish. And no matter how hard he tried to tickle Leya, it just wasn't happening. She wasn't ticklish at all, and so she won all of their fights. She won them by playing dirty, of course, but she still won them, and that was all that she really cared about.) However, when she said it that day, it had the opposite of the desired effect. If possible, he looked even glummer.

"I'd deserve it," he muttered under his breath, as if he thought that she wouldn't hear him. She did hear him, however, and she looked at him with shock and real dismay.

"How could you even say that?" she asked him, horrified. "Joe, you didn't do _anything_ wr…"

"I left you," Joe replied, pulling over by the side of the road and stopping. There was a long, stunned silence. Then, he turned and looked at her. She could see that his eyes were blazing with bitterness. "I left you there. I just…I…" he broke off and make a noise of extreme frustration. Leya's expression turned from anger into pity.

"Joe," she said gently. "Sweetie, you need to stop this. You didn't have time to think about things. You had to act, or else something was going to happen. We were close to the Lux anyway…"

"That's not the point, though," Joe said angrily. "I _left_ you. Just…lying there. You weren't even conscious to defend yourself."

"Joe, stop it!" Leya exclaimed suddenly, the high-pitched hysteria in her voice surprising both of them. "Just…stop. I don't blame you. You shouldn't blame yourself."

Joe slumped in his seat, staring out at the road with the look of someone who is completely lost.

"I just…I can't…" he stammered, looking for the right words and obviously not coming up with any of them. He turned to look at her out of the corner of his eyes, slumping even more. "I don't…I don't know what I'm trying to say."

"I know you don't," Leya said with just the right amount of harshness. "You don't know what to say because you don't even know what's wrong with you. You just think that you did something wrong, but I know that you're turning this whole thing over and over in your head, and I know that you're probably seeing the same thing I'm seeing; that I would be dead if you hadn't left me there. We would have been sitting out there, open and exposed, and you wouldn't have had any way to get me to help. That lady probably wouldn't have stopped; because you probably wouldn't have trusted her enough to let her anywhere near us. I was in pretty bad shape."

"You're _still _in pretty bad shape," Joe murmured, glancing at her. She shrugged and pulled her big black sweatshirt around her even more tightly.

"Hospital gowns," she said with a smirk. Joe smirked as well, but it was sadly. He looked down at the ground and sighed heavily. Leya watched him for a little while, her face etched with pity. Then, she leaned over the seat (ignoring the pain in her hip) and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a comforting hug. She could tell by the shaking of his shoulders that he was crying, but because it was such a blow to his pride, she didn't say anything. She just held him and let him cry.

* * *

Vincent sat in the waiting room of the hospital, his head in his hands. There were crying and screaming friends and family members everywhere, demanding to know what had happened. The helpless woman at the front desk, who was as white as a sheet after having only narrowly escaped death herself, could only answer them that some very bad men had done some serious damage. She didn't have an official casualty list, but then again, she didn't really need one. She didn't tell anyone there, but pretty much everyone had died. Just about every man, woman, and child had been killed in their hospital beds. There were maybe five survivors.

Vincent watched and heard all of this with a heavy expression. Scarlett was somewhere in that building. She could be dead. She could be alive. He didn't know, because they wouldn't let him see her. They said that there had been complications. What complications, he didn't know. But complications were never good. His mother had died after they told he and his father that she had been having 'complications'.

He didn't want to think about it, but that would mean drawing upon something in his surroundings to think about. There wasn't anything around him that he would _want _to think about. There was only fear and death and crying and everything that would make him think even more about Scarlett.

Suddenly, he felt like he had to get out of that room. He had to go take a walk, get some fresh air. He wasn't sure why, but then someone on the other side of the room made a gagging noise, and his mind was made up. For some reason, he just knew that he wouldn't be able to handle it if someone threw up.

Struggling to his feet, he ignored the stares that people shot him. One would think that they would be used to the sight of blood after the horrors that they had seen. They all thought it was so odd that he would be sitting there waiting for something, anything, from the doctors when he himself looked like he needed some serious medical attention.

He pushed his way through the growing crowd, and he kept his eyes on the floor so he couldn't see them watching him. He knew that they were, and he knew that none of them understood what he was feeling at that moment. The fear, the resignation, and the indecision. They only saw the wild-eyed, sad man who walked past them as if he had all the time in the world. And really, he did. There wasn't really anything else that he could be doing. Nothing but waiting, and that obviously wasn't getting him anywhere.

He found himself standing outside, though he didn't ever remember walking out into the sunset. He found himself thinking about several sunsets that he and Scarlett had shared, and as he walked down the street, he started crying again.

* * *

Jackson and Lisa stopped at the door to her bedroom. Both of them were still feeling hazy with the shock and pain that they had both experienced in the past hour. Brian had gone back to his office to investigate the shooters some more. No one had seen either Harrison or Vincent. Neither of them was answering their cell phones, and neither of them had checked in with Sal. Someone had even swung by the hospital to see if they were there. They weren't. Jackson suspected that something had snapped in both of them. He figured that they would both wander around the city aimlessly for a little while, and they would eventually find their way back to the complex, like lost dogs.

In the meantime, Jackson had decided to walk Lisa back to her room to make sure that she wasn't going to try anything stupid. That was what his conscious mind decided, anyway. The back of his mind knew that she was too shocked to do anything. He just wanted to be with her because he knew that she needed him.

"It's going to be okay," he said to her as she opened the door with her key. She turned and looked at him sadly.

"I don't think it will," she whispered. Jackson had nothing to say to that, because he honestly didn't think it would be okay either. He couldn't exactly agree to that, though. He had to at least pretend that he had faith.

"Don't worry about it," he said instead. "I'll take care of it."

"I hope so," Lisa responded absently, pushing her door open. She turned back around to face Jackson, her face a mask of pain and fear. "I'm glad you're okay, Jackson."

Jackson smiled at her slightly.

"I'm glad I'm okay, too," he said. Lisa smiled humorlessly and turned to walk into her room. He saw the slump of her shoulders and the disappointment in her stance when he didn't stop her. But he couldn't stop her. His mind was aching to reach out and take her arm and kiss her and take away her fears. But part of him was telling him no; telling him that he couldn't do that. Jacqueline flashed to the front of his mind, and he knew that he had to talk to her. He felt guilty about it, considering everything that Lisa had just gone through for him, but talking to Jacqueline was something that had needed to be done for a long time. He just wasn't sure how to go about doing it. He remembered how hard talking to that woman was.

"Goodnight," he said hopefully. Lisa nodded without turning around, and then she closed the door behind her.

Immediately, he felt his face fill with color of embarrassment. He couldn't believe that he had just let her go in there, by herself, undoubtedly to wallow in self-blame the entire night. Was he blind? Was he a complete idiot? Most definitely. Was he going to try to change a thing? Absolutely not. Why? He wasn't sure.

He was a wreck.

Inside her room, Lisa wasn't much better. Still in shock and now with a fresh blow to her self-confidence, she sat down on her bed and stared at the floor. She thought back to the way he had looked at her out in the hallway. She mistook his indecision for something else; something bad. She didn't know exactly what emotion had been in his eyes, but she knew that it was nothing she wanted to see.

Jacqueline. That was the only thing she could think of. He must have been thinking of Jacqueline when he looked at her like that. Why else would he? They had been making so much progress before she had decided to make a reappearance. Lisa could only imagine what she had done to Jackson to make him so faithful to her even though they had been split up for God knew how long. Jackson didn't seem like the type who would be whipped easily. No, correction. Jackson _wasn't_ the type to be whipped easily. She knew him well enough to say something like that with some certainty.

She suddenly felt the overwhelming desire to go after him. She needed to go after him in that moment more than she had ever needed to do anything. She only stopped herself because she knew that he would be gone, and because she knew that even if he was still there, she wouldn't have any idea what to say.

* * *

Harrison and Jessie found themselves at a coffee shop, sitting in a cozy corner. Each of them had their own coffee, and Harrison was busy dumping sugar packet after sugar packet into his.

"I see you like sugar," Jessie remarked with a smile, taking a sip of her coffee.

"I can't stand the taste of coffee," Harrison replied, surprised to hear himself speaking the words. He felt a thousand miles away.

"You didn't _have_ to get one," Jessie reminded him.

"I need to stay awake," Harrison said. He sounded weird, Jessie noted, like he was talking through a filter. She knew it was probably the shock. The shock was still clinging to her, certainly, but she was doing a good job of keeping it together.

"Shouldn't you be with your friends?" she asked gently. He shook his head quickly, taking a sip of his coffee, pausing, and then reaching for another sugar packet. Jessie couldn't help a smile at that.

"I can't," he said. "Not yet. Everything's going to be fucked to hell back there."

Jessie frowned thoughtfully. Harrison had made several references to 'back there', but she still hadn't been able to figure out exactly where that was. She had a feeling that it wasn't anything legal, or anything that he was too proud of.

"What do you mean?" she asked gently instead of prying, knowing that it was very likely that he might slip up with something that he normally wouldn't say if he was feeling coherent.

"Well, with Scarlett in the hospital…Vincent will no doubt be with her, if he's not missing or anything. He might have wandered off…he's apt to do that sometimes. He doesn't do very well with things like this. Jackson will have to take control for a little while, but he has enough goddamn problems of his own."

"Does he?" Jessie asked. She reflected that what she was doing was much like what she had been doing to her mother the past days. Her mother would ramble on and on, and Jessie would make remarks like 'really, now?' or 'is that so?'. Her mother would be none the wiser, but suddenly it felt like a horrible thing to do. Especially considering what had happened earlier, with –

She shoved the thought out of her head with a violent push. She hadn't allowed herself to stop and think about that yet, and she certainly wasn't going to start now. She just forced herself to focus on Harrison again, that summery smile still there though it wavered slightly.

"Yeah, with Lisa and Jacqueline…" he stopped and looked at her, a guilty smile spreading over his face. "Sorry, I really just kind of…lost track of what I was saying."

"Don't worry, I love hearing about it," Jessie said truthfully. "Honestly, I really do. If you want to talk about it, I'm here to listen. You saved my life. I think I can sit here and listen to you for an hour or so."

"Yeah," Harrison said shyly. He took another sip of his coffee, his semi-long hair falling in his eyes and obscuring his view of the pretty woman in front of him. He felt like he was in some kind of dream. He felt content, though in the back of his mind he knew that he should be feeling crushed and hopeless. For the first time in his life, he decided to take someone up on the invitation to 'talk about it'. Not that many people had offered to let him talk about stuff that he wanted to talk about. "Jackson and Lisa are weird," he said as he stirred the sugar into his coffee. "They…well, they met when Jackson was on a job for the Organization. They're not around anymore, but at the time they were the biggest assassination organization in the world. Next to Andropov's people. And they didn't kill just the bad guys. They killed for money."

"Wait, assassinations?" Jessie asked, somehow not at all surprised. "You mean, there's organizations that do that?"

"Oh, yeah," Harrison said incredulously. "More than one, too. Think of all the assassinations of world leaders over the years. Probably a good 90 percent of them were done by organizations much like _the _Organization."

"Kennedy?" Jessie asked immediately, leaning forward eagerly. Harrison nodded.

"Yes," he said. Jessie leaned back, exhaling heavily.

"Wow," she said. "That's incredible. Have you…you know?"

"Little things," Harrison said, looking embarrassed. The sleeves of his coat were already pulled down, and he pulled them down further, so they covered all but the tips of his fingers. He picked up his mug and drank from it awkwardly. "You…probably wouldn't have heard of them. Corrupt town officials, stuff like that. They were all ruled as accidents. I'm good at making it look like it's an accident."

Jessie looked at Harrison with wonder. He was looking at her like he expected her to jump up and start shouting at the top of her lungs that he was a killer. She understood clearly that if she had morals, he would have been in a lot of trouble, telling her his story. But she knew that that was probably why he had told it to her in the first place. He could sense that she was different, somehow. She guessed that that was probably part of his job. For some reason, she found that extremely exciting. She had never met anyone quite like him. He seemed so quiet and shy, and yet he was admitting to killing people. And he claimed that it was nothing big. She would have thought he was completely insane if she had not been there when she saw what was going on. There was no way it could be anything else, now that she had actually thought about it. There was no way that he wasn't what he said he was. And though he may have been insane, he seemed all right to her. And his friends seemed normal enough for people who were shooting and killing.

She knew that she should still probably be taking the quickest bus home. She should not, under any circumstances, trust the random man off the streets who admitted to being an assassin. And yet, she felt like she could trust him more than anyone she had ever met. It was weird, but she wasn't about to question it. She felt like she belonged there, with him. She had always been a big believer of fate and destiny, and she thought that maybe there was something about her meeting Mr. Harrison Dixon that was meant to be. Silly, she knew, but there was something about it that felt right.

"Okay, so let me get this straight," she said, trying hard to make herself look skeptical. "There are these organizations out there that kill people. Like, world leaders and stuff?"

"Yeah," Harrison said slowly.

"And they do it for money?"

"Not all of them. Some only kill the bad ones. Hitler and the likes."

"I thought Hitler killed himself," Jessie said pointedly. Harrison smiled.

"That's what they say," he said. Jessie smiled despite herself.

"Okay," she said. "So these organizations kill people, either for money or self-satisfaction, and they cover it up so no one will know it's them. I'm assuming there's a lot of competition with each other to get the better kill and be the better organization?"

"Tons," Harrison answered, starting to look a little less frightened and starting to look a little more comfortable. He even smiled at her coyly.

"Figures. Umm…well, which kind is yours?"

"The one I worked for up until three months ago was the kind that does their shit for money. The one I work for now is the kind that only kills the bad guys."

"Well, Mr. Harrison Dixon," Jessie said, leaning forward and looking him in the eyes with a playful glance. "I'm liking you already. Tell me more."

So Harrison did.


	11. But Oh God I Feel I've Been Lied To

Wheeewwwww, lot of fun stuff going on recently. I've been hanging out with my crush literally like every single day. He calls me his 'absolute best friend' now (: So, basically, I'm happy. Very, very happy!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Please review again (:

**Lorelle: **hehe, I'm glad you think I'm good at writing those scenes. They're the hardest to write, in my opinion. Thanks for reviewing!

**Jen: **You shall see, you shall seee. Thanks for reviewing!

**Joelle: **hahaha I think everyone has those moments where they just want to hit Jackson. He's so terrible. Tension and drama is indeed very very good! Haha, thanks for reviewing!

* * *

**Chapter 11: **But Oh, God, I Feel I've Been Lied To 

_I hold my breath as this life starts to take its toll.  
__I hide behind a smile as this perfect plan unfolds  
__**But oh, God  
**__**I feel I've been lied to  
**__Lost all faith in the things I have achieved  
__And, I_

_I've woken now to find myself  
__In the shadows of all I have created  
__I'm longing to be lost in you  
__(Away from this place I have made)  
__Won't you take me away from me? _

_Crawling through this world  
__As disease flows through my veins  
__I look into myself, but my own heart has been changed  
__I can't go on like this  
__I loathe all I've become  
__  
I've woken now to find myself  
__In the shadows of all I have created  
__I'm longing to be lost in you  
__(Away from this place I have made)  
__Won't you take me away from me? _

_Lost in a dying world  
__I reach for something more  
__I have grown so weary of this lie I'm in _

_I've woken now to find myself  
__In the shadows of all I have created  
__I'm longing to be lost in you  
__(Away from this place I have made)  
__Won't you take me away from me? _

_I've woken now to find myself  
__I'm lost in shadows of my own  
__I'm longing to be lost in you  
__Away from me_

Away From Me  
Evanescence

* * *

Joe Reisert had never been a big sleeper, but that afternoon he had fallen asleep and hadn't woken up until early evening. He felt more refreshed than he had in twenty years, and he felt _good_ for the first time in a long, long time. He decided that he needed to go find Lisa to talk to her, because it was long past time that they got some things straight. 

Even as he stepped out into the hallway, he knew that something was wrong. A group of people was talking in hushed whispers, looking at one another conspiratorially and suspiciously. He glanced around, and saw that there were a good number of people out in the hallways. He glanced at his watch to make sure that he wasn't mistaken and saw that it was indeed seven o'clock; when most people headed to the center, according to Harrison. He considered asking someone what everyone was whispering about, but then he decided against it. Instead, he walked up to Lisa's door and knocked firmly. He knew they would be whispering behind him, but he didn't turn around.

The door opened, and the face that greeted him was much more tired than when he had seen her last. Her eyes were red and puffy, and it was apparent immediately that she had been doing a lot of crying. When she saw him, she didn't even make an effort to pretend that she hadn't been. That frightened him right away. She always made an effort to make sure that he didn't see her crying. She hated when he saw her crying.

"Honey, what's wrong?" he asked her. His immediate thought was that something had happened to Jackson. He didn't want to even think about what _that _would mean for Lisa.

"I…" Lisa murmured, and then she burst into fresh tears. Joe was beyond alarmed. He hustled her into the room and closed the door behind them. The lights were off, so he flicked those on, and he saw that the room was in complete disarray. The bed sheets were tangled on the floor, and her clothes were strewn across the room.

"What happened?" he asked with horror. His mind flashed immediately that she had to have been raped, though he knew that that was next to impossible. "Lisa, honey, what happened?"

"Scarlett's in the hospital," Lisa sobbed. "And I think it's my fault."

"Why…?" Joe asked, feeling his head building up to a migraine. "What happened to her?"

"We were at the hospital where Leya and Joe are," Lisa said erratically, twisting her hands. "And she got shot. I just stood there, daddy. I just stood there."

"What's the mess about, then?" Joe asked, confused.

"I was cleaning," Lisa murmured, sobbing again. That was oddly enough the first thing that made sense to Joe. She did that sometimes; cleaned when she was upset.

"Where's Jackson?" he asked. He sensed immediately that that was the wrong thing to say. Her face clouded over.

"Busy with that _whore_," she spat. Joe looked at her with surprise, and then shook his head, deciding that there were weirder things that had happened that day.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," he said. He didn't know what had happened at the hospital or how it was Lisa's fault, but he knew that he probably wasn't going to get a good story out of Lisa at the moment. Instead, he walked out the door and headed out to find Jackson.

* * *

While Joe started his search, Jackson sat in the center with Jacqueline sitting across from him. He was nervous, really nervous, for the first time in a while, and he didn't know why. He felt like a high school kid with a crush; not that he really knew what that felt like or anything. 

"I'm sorry," Jacqueline said for the hundredth time, closing her eyes and shaking her head. "I just…I never imagined that anything would happen. Stupid, I know, but as much as I dislike Scarlett, she's always been the most capable woman I know."

She tore her napkin a little bit at the edges, her eyes focused on Jackson's.

"I know," Jackson said simply. "But she's been through worse before. Three months ago, she was shot at least three or four times. I don't exactly remember how much. But, she survived. Somehow. She's the woman of miracles. She'll pull through."

"I hope so," Jacqueline said, looking down at her napkin and tearing it a little again with her long, slender fingers. "For Vincent's sake, I hope so."

"I thought you hated Vincent," Jackson said, arching an eyebrow. Jacqueline shrugged.

"I wouldn't wish Scarlett's death on him. Losing someone you love…that has to be the worst feeling in the world."

Jackson thought back to the time, years before, when he thought that Jacqueline was dead. He didn't remember it being all that painful at all. Then again, Jackson had never had many feelings of loss. After losing his mother, it had all kind of dulled down a bit.

"I'd imagine so," he said nonetheless, knowing that she was probably thinking of that same moment when he had stood there and stared at her lying on the ground, blood blossoming around her. He hadn't even cried. He had just seen her lying there, and then had moved on, leaving her for dead. She didn't remember any of it later, and no one told her that Jackson hadn't even checked for a pulse.

"I was thinking about what we were saying earlier," she said gently to him, plucking at her napkin again. "About us…"

"Oh?" Jackson prompted, knowing that she wanted him to say something but finding himself unable to come up with anything to say.

"Yes," she said simply. "And I know that you're confused. I know that you care about that Lisa girl. But why are you here and not with her? You obviously still feel something for me."

There was a questioning hope in her voice, and Jackson for some reason found it slightly pathetic.

"I don't know what I feel," he said robotically, glancing around the restaurant.

"Oh," Jacqueline responded lamely. She had torn her napkin in half. "I see."

"You know I don't like to talk about it," Jackson said before she could offer. "You know I like to keep things like this to myself."

"I know," Jacqueline said simply. Her napkin crumbled in her hand. "But I think we both know that I didn't just come here for a job."

Jackson was about to respond to that when he saw Joe Reisert wandering through the center, looking lost and confused. Their eyes locked for a moment, and then Joe hurried over to the table. Jackson stood up.

"What's wrong?" he asked, seeing the panic in Joe's eyes.

"Lisa," Joe panted simply. "There's something wrong with Lisa."

"What do you mean?" Jackson asked, his eyebrows raising with surprise.

"She's incoherent," Joe said, waving his hand. "Crying her eyes out. I don't know what's wrong with her, and I sure as hell don't think I'm going to get a good answer from her. What the hell happened to her?"

Jackson saw the age-old suspicion in Joe's fatherly eyes. They asked him, _did you break my daughters heart?_ Though Joe knew what had happened to Scarlett, there was still that suspicion in his eyes and in his heart, as there had been from the beginning.

"We were at the hospital," Jackson said slowly. "Two of our people got into a car accident, and when I was visiting them, I got captured by Tom Belmont, another one of our people. Lisa, Scarlett, and Vincent came looking fro me after Tom's men captured the hospital. Scarlett was shot in the process."

"How was any of that Lisa's fault?" Joe asked with confusion.

"I never said it was," Jackson answered defensively.

"_You _didn't, but Lisa did," Joe said pointedly.

"She thinks it's her fault?" Jackson asked tiredly. Joe nodded sadly. Jackson sighed. Joe glanced at Jacqueline, who was watching them with a tired and slightly annoyed expression.

"Yeah," he said. "She's not too happy about other things, too. I gathered that much. She might not be complaining about it, but she isn't exactly happy."

Jackson knew immediately what Joe was referring to, and his face turned a bright red color. Joe thought smugly that he had a right to be ashamed, hurting his daughter like he did.

"I'll go talk to her," he said nervously.

"Good," Joe said simply. He glanced at Jacqueline again. "If there's a competition, do we get to vote?"

"Get out of here," Jackson grumbled. He sighed heavily and turned to Jacqueline as Joe walked away chuckling to himself humorlessly.

"Her father is here?" Jacqueline asked, looking and sounding very confused. Jackson nodded.

"I really don't have the time to explain," he said. "I have to go see if she's all right."

"You care about her more than you let on, don't you?" Jacqueline asked sadly. He stopped and looked her in the eye, suddenly overcome with the insane urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her.

"I care about her," he said simply, forcing himself to turn away from her.

"Then why are you with me?" Jacqueline asked, sounding pained. He didn't turn around. He just walked away.

* * *

"So, let me see if I'm following." 

"Okay."

"Lisa and Jackson met when Jackson was still working for the Organization. _The _Organization. And he tried to kill her, but she bested him, and then they somehow fell in love?"

"Well, it's not official yet, but everyone knows they're just moving towards that inevitable conclusion."

Jessie leaned back in her chair, clearly at a loss for words.

"I have never heard of anything like that happening," she said, shaking her head. "Seriously. I mean it. She's a big woman to look past something like that. She must have no morals. Much like me."

Jessie laughed and took a sip of her coffee, her second coffee. Harrison shook his head.

"Oh, no, she has morals," he said. "Trust me. When I first met her, it was impossible to reason with her. She just didn't understand our way of life. Not that I can blame her. It takes some people a lot of getting used to. Some people, like Lisa's parents, just can't accept it at all. She came to realize, though, that Jackson wasn't a bad man necessarily. He had just hit a few bumps along the way."

"Pretty big bumps," Jessie said with a snort.

"He had a rough beginning," Harrison said, lowering his voice, though there was no one to listen to them. "His father killed his mother right in front of his eyes, and then turned the gun on Jackson. Jackson killed him. No one knows how he did it, because he isn't one to talk about it, but he killed his father. He spent his whole life living with that guilt, and three months ago he finds out that that man he killed wasn't even his real father. He had thought that his father had been lying when he said that Jackson's mother was having an affair, but he wasn't. He was telling the truth. That just about ate Jackson up inside, learning that his mother really _was _having an affair. But at the same time, I think that saved him. Knowing that he didn't really kill his own father, I mean."

"That's horrible," Jessie murmured, engrossed in the story. "How old was he."

"I'm not sure," Harrison said with some embarrassment. "But I know he was young. Couldn't have been much older than ten years old."

"That's horrible," Jessie said again. "No one should have to go through something like that."

"Yeah," Harrison murmured. Jessie looked at him curiously.

"You've told me all about Jackson and Lisa and Vincent and Scarlett," she said. "But you haven't told me anything about you. How did you get your start?"

"Oh, I don't know if…" Harrison started, but Jessie cut him off instantly.

"No, really," she said gently. "I can tell how much talking about this stuff has helped you. Keep going. It will help you more. I know it will."

"I've never told anyone," Harrison said slowly, looking down at the ground. "The only people who knew are dead now, and I thought maybe it was better that way."

"What's the point of knowing a great tragedy if you're never going to share it?" Jessie said pointedly. "What's the point of living your life if only you are going to remember it? Tell me. I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to, but at least you won't be buried under the weight of it any longer."

Harrison was about to open his mouth and protest that there was no weight to be buried under, but even before he had opened it halfway, he knew that was utter bullshit. He had been carrying the weight around his entire life, and even though his wasn't a very long life, it was a weight that no one should have to carry.

"All right," he said instead. "Well, I was four years old when my mom died of cancer. I don't even know what kind. No one ever told me. I didn't even know what cancer was, back then. I thought it was a monster crab that came in the night and ate people and killed them. Cancer, you know, like the zodiac sign?"

"Logical," Jessie murmured, getting saddened just thinking about a miniature Harrison lying in his bed and looking around in the dark with sharp, frightened breath. She imagined that the image of that giant crab eating his mother was one that scared him many long nights.

"Yeah, I thought so too. After my mom died, my dad started drinking. He was never a really nice guy, but afterwards, he really let loose. I'd make one noise and he'd just explode and attack me. I don't know how I even _survived_ that. He wasn't the type of guy to just hit me a few times. He would full out attack me. I still have some scars."

"Where?" Jessie asked, her heart bursting with pity. Looking at the shy, gentle man in front of her and hearing that story was like peeling away the layers. Knowing what she knew made him seem more vulnerable, and she was faced with the sudden urge to throw her arms around his neck and hug him.

Harrison unbuttoned his shirt and lifted his beater and showed her the long, white scar on his chest.

"That was a hammer," he said. "Cracked three of my ribs. My neighbors found me out in the back yard. I told them that I fell down the stairs."

"Why didn't you just tell them the truth?" Jessie asked with surprise.

"I couldn't," Harrison said with a shrug. "Part of it was fear. My dad used to tell me that if I told anyone, or if anyone found out, that I would be taken away to the orphanage where they would feed me to Cancer. I believed him. So I didn't tell anyone. But I think part of it was love, too. I loved him because I didn't understand what he was doing to me. I knew he was hurting me, but I didn't know why, and I assumed that it had to be my fault."

"You're the poster man for an abused child, aren't you?" Jessie mused.

"I guess I am," Harrison replied, shrugging. "I covered his ass so many times that I think he started taking it for granted. But eventually something in him just crashed. One day, I came home from school and he was sitting in the garage with his brains splattered all over the floor."

Jessie put a hand to her mouth in a show of her horror.

"Oh my God, you poor thing," she said.

"I tried to wake him up," Harrison said, getting a far-away look in his eye as if the memory was one that he hadn't visited in a long, long time. "I had made him a father's day card at school that day. It said 'Dear daddy. I miss mommy too, but I'm glad I still have you. I love you. Love, Harry.' I kept trying to give it to him, but he wouldn't take it, and I…" here, Harrison trailed off, shaking his head. "I thought it was because he didn't love me. I was five years old, then. I didn't understand what was going on. I was crying in the garage, and the newspaper boy heard me and decided to see what was going on. I don't know what I would have done if he hadn't come in. He took me outside and drove me to the police station. An hour later, I was taken by my uncle to his house. I never saw my old house again."

"Do you remember where it is?" Jessie asked.

"Yeah," Harrison replied.

"Around here?" Jessie asked.

"About an hour's drive," Harrison said, shrugging.

"Well then, let's go," Jessie said, grabbing her car keys.

"What?" Harrison asked, standing up and looking at her with confusion. "Where?"

"To your house," Jessie said. "We can't just sit here, and you obviously need to visit this place."

"Why do I need to visit it?" Harrison asked, confused.

"Because, that's what people always do to kill their demons that haunt them. They go to the place where something happened, and then they go around and they look at all their memories. It helps."

"Really?"

"Really," Jessie answered. "Are you up for it?"

Harrison thought of back at the Paradise. They would no doubt be wondering where he was. He had yet to turn on his cell phone. He didn't want them to find him.

"Sure," he said. He told himself that he would call them later. "Let's go."

* * *

"Lisa?" 

Jackson stuck his head into Lisa's room, pocketing his spare key. He was met with utter silence. Frowning, he closed the door behind him and stepped in. He flicked on the light, and saw that she was sleeping curled up on her bed. She hadn't changed out of her clothes, and she was curled up without a blanket. Jackson sighed sadly and walked over to the wardrobe on the side of the room, remembering the last time he had had to do that for her. It seemed so long ago, though it had only been three months. He draped a blanket over her with a feeling of nostalgia. He had been at another crossroads at that point in time three months ago, and he was at a crossroads again. It seemed fitting.

After he draped the blanket over her, he sat down on the bed beside her and watched her sleep. She looked so peaceful when she slept that he was reminded of a guardian angel. His eyes traveled to the Saint Jerome necklace that she wore around her neck. It was clutched in her fist.

Suddenly, Jackson felt very sad. He ran his fingers once through Lisa's hair, and then he watched to see if she would react. She didn't. He closed his eyes and forced himself to stop thinking about Jacqueline. It didn't work. He felt more frustrated with himself than he had ever felt before.

And finally, it began to make sense.

* * *

Joe and Leya arrived back at the complex to find that almost everyone was out in the hallways, whispering and pointing and ogling at one another. 

"The whole place is going to hell," Leya murmured. "I just know it. Something bad's going on here."

"They found out about Tom," Joe said with a sigh, thinking that that was probably the only explanation. "They're probably thinking that if he's one of them, there's probably a bunch more."

"I'm thinking that, too," Leya muttered. Joe nodded.

"Yeah," he said with a heavy sigh. "Me too."

"Shit, I hate this," Leya muttered. They made their way quickly through the center and into the business area. Near the beginning of the hallway was the hospital area. They entered, and the doctor on duty looked up. It was Jeff Harding, one of the best doctors anyone ever had. No one really knew why he had come to work at the complex, but they knew that it had something to do with Jimmy. Everything always had something to do with Jimmy. Everyone loved Jimmy.

"Hey guys," he said. He was a youngish doctor of maybe thirty-five years old. He looked younger, of course, and he was one of the most attractive men in the complex. He was the kind of doctor that showed up on TV shows about emergency rooms.

"Hey," Leya and Joe said together.

"I heard about the crash," Jeff said, flashing his sunny smile at them in a way that held just the right amount of sympathy. "I'm glad you're both okay. Even though I hear you need some rest, miss Leya."

"Yeah," Leya said, smiling shyly at him. Joe laughed slightly under his breath, but not loud enough so Jeff would hear. He knew that Leya would kill him.

"Well, we'll just fix you right up and get you into bed. Joe, are you planning on watching over her?"

"Like a hawk," Joe replied with a mock-dutiful voice. Jeff smiled, but neither Joe nor Leya was really sure if he understood that it was a joke.

"Good," he said seriously. "You want to make sure she doesn't move around a lot. I know she's a pretty active person, but she can't be for the next few days. Possibly weeks."

Leya groaned, though she was secretly looking forward to a few weeks of Joe waiting on her hand and foot.

"No problem," Joe said, and he meant it. Though he was secretly dreading having to do everything that Leya asked.

"Good," Jeff said. "Now, let's…"

He never got to finish his sentence, because at that moment, someone yelled from down the hallway, sounding frightened and pained. Jeff's head snapped up, and he looked at the door with fear.

"What the fuck?" Joe asked, his heart filling with fear and his stomach dropping to his gut. "What was that?"

"I don't know," Jeff said. "Let me go check. Stay here."

He started out into the hallway towards the call.

* * *

The person who had yelled was Riley Sanchez. He was a guard for the cells. He had been going on his rounds when he noticed that one of the cell doors was open. A quick scan of his memory reminded him that the cell belonged to Dave Tilden. He had jogged towards the cell and once he saw what was inside, he had run up the stairs and to the end of the hallway. It was there that he yelled for help. 

Within twenty minutes, Jackson was finally found coming out of Lisa's room. He was led down to the jail cell and brought inside. Dave Tilden was lying in a pool of his own blood, dead. A note pinned to his chest read, "_You followed our trail and believed he was one of us. Don't make the same mistake again_."

* * *

"I was ready to kill him," Jackson said sadly. "I didn't care what he had to say. I was ready to kill him." 

"You were trying to protect the complex," Lisa said tiredly, rubbing her eyes to get the sleep out of them. "You did what you had to do. There was no other way."

Lisa had awoken when she heard people yelling outside her door. It had been someone proclaiming that Dave Tilden was dead. She had gone into the center, and had found her way into Jackson's room, where they were currently seated at the little table in his office.

"I should have figured that out," Jackson insisted, the self-disgust in his voice painfully evident. "I should have at least asked him. He was one of my closest friends."

"I know," Lisa said sadly. "But there was nothing you could have done. They planted the trap. They knew you would do anything to protect this complex."

"They knew I would do anything to protect _you_," Jackson reminded her. Lisa looked at her like he had just slapped her.

"I'm sorry they interpreted it as that," she said stiffly. "But don't try to blame this on me. It's not my fault they read far too far into your feelings for me."

Jackson immediately felt sorry for that tone of voice.

"I'm sorry," he said, the words sounding very foreign to his ears. How many times had he said that in his life and actually meant it? He knew the number wasn't that great. "I wasn't thinking. I know it's not your fault."  
"It's not your fault either, so don't go thinking that," Lisa said harshly. Jackson sighed, but didn't respond. "Do you know who it was who killed him?"

"No," Jackson replied, ignoring the fact that that was a very stupid question. "Riley's looking up everyone who entered and exited the cells since a few hours ago. That was the last time he did his rounds."

Lisa nodded. That seemed like a good idea.

"They keep records of that?" she asked.

"You need to swipe a card to unlock the door," Jackson said. "Not many of us have that much clearance. It would have to be someone with at least a level five."

"How many of you are level five?" Lisa asked.

"Maybe ten," Jackson said, shrugging.

"That's not many," Lisa agreed. "So, one of you ten was in there and we'll be able to find out who killed Dave from the card thing?"

"Yes," Jackson said, slightly annoyed that he had to keep going over and over things for Lisa to understand. He knew that she was tired, but he was feeling impatient, and he didn't have the time to be constantly explaining things to her.

There was knock on the door before Lisa could say anything else. Jackson got to his feet and walked quickly over to the door. Riley stood there, looking nervous.

"Well?" Jackson asked.

"There was only one person who's been in there," Riley said. "You're not gonna like it."

"Who was it?" Jackson asked.

* * *

"Shit," Harrison muttered, feeling around in his pockets. 

"What is it?" Jessie asked.

"I can't find my fucking clearance card," Harrison muttered. "I must have dropped it in the gunfight or something."

"What's a clearance card?" Jessie asked.

"Something that I need to get back into the complex," Harrison said, sighing heavily and closing his eyes. Jessie glanced at him and then focused her eyes back on the road ahead of her.

"You can just call them and tell them that you lost it," Jessie said, shrugging. "Why is it a big deal?"

"It's not," Harrison said, sighing heavily. "It's just that if anyone wanted to, they could basically break into the complex."

* * *

"It couldn't have been Harrison," Jackson insisted, getting to his feet. Lisa had to admit that even though he wasn't very tall at all, he looked very imposing at that moment. "Harrison was at the hospital with us." 

"Sal has him checking out a good ten minutes after this card was used in the prison," Riley said apologetically. "It's a quick one, but it's very possible."

Jackson knew that, yet he couldn't believe that Harrison would ever do anything like that.

"He was helping us at the hospital," he said with annoyance.

"Sal said he hasn't been back since," Riley said carefully, trying to get the hint across without actually saying it. Jackson sighed. He caught the hint.

"He hasn't," he said. His tone was cold, but absent. Riley took that as a sign to leave.

"Once you get a hold of him, it would be smart to detain him for a little while," he said, one foot already out the door. Jackson glared at him until he closed it behind him.

"I can't believe that Harrison would do something like that," Lisa said decisively. "Someone must have taken his card."

"Harrison's normally a pretty organized man," Jackson said with a sigh. "The evidence is against him."

Lisa thought back to the last time she had seen Harrison.

"Oh my God," she muttered.

"What?" Jackson asked.

"The last I saw of Harrison here was when he was in the computer room," she said, looking at Jackson apologetically. "He was with Jacqueline. We left them alone together there. Maybe she managed to take his card."

Jackson's face paled a few shades visibly. He stood still and silent for a few moments, then slowly shook his head disbelievingly.

"No," he said. "No, Jacqueline just wants a job. She doesn't have anything to do with this."

"I'm not saying it's definite," Lisa said carefully. She felt only a little bit of guilt that she was so happy about what she was saying. "But it's a lot more likely than Harrison turning."

"Harrison's only known us for three months," Jackson said venomously. "Jacqueline's known us a hell of a lot longer."

Suddenly, Lisa felt rage creeping over her. It was an instinctive, territorial rage. Jackson was choosing that blonde whore over her. That much was evident. But he was also choosing that blonde whore over _Harrison_, who was one of his closest friends and one of the nicest people that Lisa had ever met.

"Jackson, you need to start thinking," she said darkly, getting to her feet. "You know how that woman is. You know she's not perfect. Now, I realize that you and her have something going on, but this isn't about that. This is about the good of the complex."

"Is this because of me and Jacqueline's relationship?" Jackson asked with surprise. "I told you, Leese, that was over a long time ago."

"No," Lisa said harshly. "You _didn't_ tell me that, because it _isn't_ long over. You're choosing her. I know you are."

"Leese…" Jackson said, starting to sound a little frantic.

"Stop, Jackson," Lisa practically yelled. "You want your little blonde angel? Fine. I understand. But don't let that cloud your judgment, or a lot of people could be hurt."

"I'm not letting anything cloud my judgment," Jackson insisted. "There's nothing that _can _cloud my judgment."

"Well how about this?" Lisa sneered. "Whatever the hell it was that me and you had going…it's over."

Lisa turned on her heel and strode out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Jackson watched her go with his mouth half open, his unspoken reply dying in his throat. He expected to feel nothing but mild regret, since that was all he ever felt. He was surprised to find that instead his heart actually began to ache. He sat down at his desk and looked down at his folded hands and wondered exactly what he was supposed to do.

It was then that he realized just how much he had changed since Lisa came into his life.

* * *

Vincent walked back into the hospital waiting room. He saw Brian standing there and waiting for him. 

"Vincent," he said, walking slowly across the waiting room towards his friend. He took off his hat. "I'm sorry, Vincent. There's no easy way to tell you this."

"What?" Vincent asked, his gaze and his thoughts far away.

"Scarlett didn't make it," Brian said. "Scarlett's dead."


	12. I Will Not Break The Way You Did

Hokay, here's the update. I hope you like it (:

We're going to really start getting to the action really soon, which should be super exciting and what not.

I'm a little tired, and I can't really think of anything else important to say

Except that I adored Pirates of the Caribbean 2

**Gladys Bagg: **Hahaha oh, sense. It escapes Jackson often

**Lorelle:** Yeah, I know there are people who read the reviews first. I discourage it, hahaha, because it usually turns out spoiling the reader, as you suggested. I figured it was a good time to give some info on Harrison's past, since we hadn't had any. He started out as just some random guy who worked for the enemy and became a close friend but not once was his past mentioned in any way, haha. I'm glad you liked it (: And yeahhhh agreed, Lisa's dad is the shit. Awww that's cute that you let your sister watch Red Eye. I should consider doing that. She'd probably end up thinking the same things your sister did! She's eleven too (: Away From Me definitely completely fit with the movie. I didn't notice it before, but then I was writing Move Along and listening to my I-pod and it randomly came on and I realized that it went really, really well. Thanks for reviewing!

**Joelle:** How can I be so wonderful and evil in the same chapter? Multitasking, I guess! (: Thanks for reviewing!

**Jen:** I knowwww, poor Vincent and Scarlett ): We loved them so. And yeah, Lisa totally owned Jackson's ass in this chapter, haha! Thanks for reviewing!

I'm so sorry for the song of this chapter…so, so sorry. I thought it went well despite the singer ): If you're going to listen to the song while reading the chapter, I suggest an acoustic version because that's what I listen to, and it has a lot more emotion than the original.

* * *

**Chapter 12:** I Will Not Break The Way You Did 

I will not make the same mistakes that you did  
And I will not let myselfCause my heart so much misery  
I will not break the way you did  
You fell so hard  
I learned the hard way  
To never let it get that far

Because of you  
I never stray too far from the sidewalk  
Because of you  
I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt  
Because of you  
I find it hard to trust not only me, but everyone around me  
Because of you  
I am afraid.

I lose my way  
And it's not too long before you point it out  
I cannot cry  
Because I know that's weakness in your eyes  
I'm forced to fake  
A smile, a laugh, everyday of my life  
My heart can't possibly break  
When it wasn't even whole to start with

Because of you  
I never stray too far from the sidewalk  
Because of you  
I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt  
Because of you  
I find it hard to trust not only me, but everyone around me  
Because of you  
I am afraid.

I watched you die  
I heard you cry every night in your sleep  
I was so young  
You should have known better than to lean on me  
You never thought of anyone else  
You just saw your pain  
And now I cry in the middle of the night  
For the same damn thing

Because of you  
I never stray too far from the sidewalk  
Because of you  
I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt  
Because of you  
I find it hard to trust not only me, but everyone around me  
Because of you  
I am afraid.

Kelly Clarkson  
Because of You

* * *

When Harrison and Jessie pulled up to his old house, Harrison wasn't surprised to see that it was old and run down. There were no cars in the driveway. They walked up to the garage and looked in the window and saw that there were no cars in the garage. There was also nothing in the garage but a few old newspapers. 

"Looks like no one lives here," Jessie said. Harrison stared at that spot in the garage for a few moments where he could remember seeing his father sitting propped against the wall. He shook his head and looked away.

"Let's go in," he said.

"Isn't that illegal?" Jessie asked. Harrison had to smirk at that.

"Illegal is nothing new to me," he said. Jessie laughed. They walked up to the front steps, and Harrison turned the knob. It pushed open easily. There was no one around to see them breaking in. All the other houses in that neighborhood were deserted or so run down that he doubted anyone really cared whether or not he was breaking in; just as long as he wasn't doing it to their house.

When they got inside, they found that the house was completely empty other than dust, mice, and more newspapers. A mouse went screaming past Jessie's feet. She didn't bat an eyelash.

"Not afraid of mice?" Harrison asked.

"No," Jessie replied with a smile. "I used to have some as a kid."

"I was never afraid of mice either," Harrison said with a smirk. "Until you've seen what they can do to someone when they're in a little glass box just big enough to stick someone's head in."

Jessie looked disgusted.

Harrison walked slowly around the center room. There were dusty outlines on the wall that seemed to indicate a stove and a refrigerator.

"Kitchen?" Jessie asked.

"You guessed it," Harrison replied. "My mom used to cook the best goddamn baby food in here."

Jessie laughed and walked over closer to him, her purse still slung over one shoulder.

"You still remember stuff?" she asked him. "You were so young when your dad died."

"I'll never forget this house," Harrison murmured, looking around the room with something like fear present in his gaze. "I've had nightmares where I come back here and my dad's waiting for me."

"Don't worry," Jessie said with a tight smile. "I'll protect you."

"Would it be unmasculine to admit that that's actually comforting?" Harrison asked jokingly. Jessie smiled.

"Not at all," she said.

Harrison smiled at her and walked out of the kitchen and into the room connected to it; the living room. He looked around only for a few minutes before walking down the narrow hallway attached to it. To one side was what had once been a bathroom. To the other, a simple and plain room.

"Looks just like it did when I slept in here," Harrison said jokingly, though the bitterness wasn't hard to detect in his voice. Jessie gazed sadly around the room. It didn't take her all that long to take in the details. There weren't many.

"If this were a movie, there would be something on the ground that you put there. Like a toy or something," Jessie mused thoughtfully, barely even aware that she was speaking.

"Yeah, well this isn't a movie," Harrison said, sighing bitterly. "There's nothing left here but dust."

He glanced around the room once more and then turned and walked out. Jessie followed him. He didn't bother going into the master bedroom. He just went straight to the garage. There was a stain.

"I guess they never bothered to completely wash that out," Harrison said. He sounded vaguely disgusted, but attached. Jessie was beginning to regret suggesting that they visit the house.

She watched Harrison as he stood there and stared at that stain. He seemed so vulnerable and unprotected in that moment that she wrapped her arms around him before she even knew she was doing it. But then Harrison's arms wrapped around her waist in return, and she wasn't worried anymore that she would scare him away. She knew that he needed someone just as much as she needed someone. They were all they had.

"Let's get out of here," she whispered to him.

"Yeah," Harrison replied. Neither of them moved.

* * *

Jackson walked out into the center and looked around, his eyes seeking out Lisa. She was nowhere in sight. The first thing he would have done on any other day would be to seek out Vincent. If Vincent were out, he would find Harrison. In the unlikely event that neither of them were available, he would look for Scarlett. If not her, then Dave. There was no one left that he could turn to. 

In the ten years that he had been with the organization, he had built himself up to be tough and independent. He didn't need anyone else, and he made sure that he had no attachments whatsoever. He didn't want to lean on anyone, and he never allowed himself to get too comfortable. It had only taken three months for him to shoot that all to hell. He was still the imposing, frightening, slightly crazy Tampa-job Jackson Rippner; he was just a lot softer than he thought he could be. He barely even remembered the Jackson that chased Lisa through her house with a knife.

He started walking aimlessly back towards Lisa's room. He had to find her, he told himself. He had to tell her that she was wrong. Because it had all started to make sense to Jackson. Jacqueline would never be good for him. She would only take from him, and she would never give. Jackson would, essentially, be the bitch in that relationship. He couldn't deal with that.

After feeling what he felt when Lisa left, he realized that he never loved Jacqueline at all. He had felt a strong physical desire along with some kind of personal attachment that never quite reached beyond affection. He had thought that it was love only because it was the closest to love he ever knew. But he knew, now, that he loved Lisa. He didn't know how it was possible, but he had fallen in love with her sometime in the three months since the Andropov incident.

He was just turning down the hallway when he heard someone call his name. He turned and saw Jacqueline walking towards him quickly.

"What is it?" he asked her, annoyed.

"Riley told me that Harrison was the one who killed Dave Tilden," she said, out of breath. "Do you have teams out there looking for him? I want to go."

Jackson stared at her blankly for a moment before remembering what she was talking about. It was the first time in his memory that he had forgotten business because of a personal issue.

"Harrison didn't do it," he heard himself saying. "Jacqueline, I need you to come with me."

Her eyes immediately filled with distrust.

"Why?" she asked shakily.

"I need to talk to you about something very serious," Jackson said, taking her arm firmly in his grasp and leading her into the business area of the complex. She followed him, her eyes fixed on his face. She was reading him for a sign, though she knew very well that she wouldn't find one. One never could tell what Jackson Rippner was thinking.

Riley looked up when they entered the prison area. He stared at Jackson for a few moments.

"What?" he asked.

"I want you to keep her in a cell for a little while," Jackson said.

"Jackson, stop," Jacqueline said, sounding scared. "What are you doing?"

"I think she stole Harrison's card," Jackson said over her. Riley nodded and walked Jackson down to the end of the line. He opened the cell door and gestured for Jackson to put her in. Jackson stepped forward and started to shove Jacqueline into the cell. Suddenly, he was pushed from behind. He bumped into Jacqueline, and they both went sprawling into the cell. Jackson was quick to his feet, but not quick enough. Riley slammed the door. Jackson heard the heavy click of the bolts sliding into place. There would be no escape from that cell.

"Damn, Jackson, you fall for everything, don't you?" Riley asked, laughing slightly.

"Riley, what the fuck are you doing?" Jackson asked calmly. "Let me out."

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Riley said, grinning. "The man I work for is expecting me to keep you here for a little while. With the 'Big Four' out of the way, the complex is open to attack."

"No one can get in here without Sal's clearance," Jackson said, still not letting himself get worked up.

"Oh, they'll have Sal's clearance," Riley said with a chuckle. "Don't you worry."

Jackson ground his teeth together.

"Who are you working for?" he asked.

"You'll find out," Riley answered. He walked down the hallway, smirked at Jackson, and then disappeared from view. Jackson heard the prison doors slamming shut, blocking all sound in, and all sound out. Jackson slammed his hand against the bars of the cell, then sank to the floor, closing his eyes. If anyone but Jacqueline had been watching him, they would have realized that he was thinking.

* * *

Lisa sank onto her bed. Her knees were shaking, and her eyes were watering heavily. She couldn't believe that she had just ended whatever it was that she and Jackson had. She had thought that maybe he would try to stop her, but he had just let her walk out. She was feeling that same bitter realization when one discovers that they have been living a lie. She had felt it several times, but never as strong as this time. 

Looking around the room, she found that what had before been a beautiful, spacious room was now closing in on her. She felt like she couldn't breathe. She got up and started to pack her things.

* * *

"I really want some Taco Bell," Leya said, out of the blue. Joey glanced away from the TV screen and smiled at her. 

"What?" he asked, though he had heard the statement already.

"I want some Taco Bell," Leya repeated with a wide smile on her face.

"Well, I'll go get you some Taco Bell," Joey said. "You going to be okay if I leave you for a few minutes?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Leya said. She grabbed the remote and pressed pause on the movie. "Hurry back though. I'm hungry."

She pouted, and Joey laughed.

"All right, sweetie," he said in a childish voice. "I'll be back."

Leya smiled at him angelically. He walked out the door and closed it behind him. Once he was gone, Leya exhaled heavily and then slumped back against the pillows. She always felt that way when he left. She was disappointed and relieved at the same time.

She pressed play on the remote and continued to watch the movie. It was some stupid assassin movie. Jackson had it in his library, and Leya had stolen it. She didn't even know what it was; nor did she honestly care. She had only put it on so she could pretend that she _wasn't_ focused completely on Joey.

Leya sighed and told herself that she had to stop. She told herself that at that very second, she would stop loving him. That was that.

She laughed out loud at the thought. She didn't think it was going to happen any time soon.

* * *

Harrison and Jessie were walking out of the house and to the car when Harrison's cell phone rang. He jumped slightly. He hadn't even remembered turning it on. He glanced at the screen. It was Vincent. 

"Hello?" he said into the phone nervously. He knew that Vincent would be bringing tidings of Scarlett.

"Harrison? Oh shit, man, you gotta help me."

Harrison was immediately filled with fear. He had never heard the vulnerability in the other man's voice before.

"Where are you?" he asked. Jessie seemed to get the hint that something was wrong. She got in the car. Harrison followed her, and she started the engine.

"I have no fucking clue, man," Vincent shouted. "Scarlett's dead, Harrison. She's fucking dead. Brian was telling me about it…fuck…" Here, Vincent broke off for a moment, his voice strangled. Then, he started again. "This guy came up and said he needed Brian for a bit. We followed him, and last thing I remember is walking into a room and Brian suddenly yelling at me to get down. Then, I woke up here. They didn't take my phone, which was fucking stupid."

"Where is 'here'?" Harrison asked, his lips feeling like they were made of rubber. Scarlett dead? That seemed impossible. His head didn't even begin to wrap around that concept.

"I don't fucking know," Vincent yelled. "It's all dark in here. I can't see a fucking thing. There's boxes all over the place. They're all empty or filled with globes."

"Globes?" Harrison asked, making a face.

"Yeah, fucking globes," Vincent replied. The sound of breaking plastic could be heard. Harrison could only assume that Vincent was taking his anger out on the globes. "You need to get back home, though. There's something going on and you need to stop it."

"I need to know where you are, first," Harrison said shortly. "Don't try to mess around, Vincent. Look for a way out. A fucking vent or something."

"Vent?" Vincent scoffed. "Yeah fucking right. Save that shit for the movies, cowboy."

"Just try to look for something!" Harrison shouted. "I'm never going to find you if you don't find out where the hell you are!"

"There's no one in this whole goddamned building but me, I swear to God," Vincent groaned. "No one. I haven't heard one footstep or even a mouse. There are no clues."

"Have you tried yelling?" Harrison asked. "What if Brian's in the building too?"

"I think he is," Vincent said. "I yelled, and I thought I heard someone yell back, but I can't be sure."

"Okay," Harrison said. "Just keep yelling, and look for something to get out of there. I'm sure there's something. There's always something."

"Not always," Vincent muttered.

"Is there anything at all that you can remember that could help you figure out where you are?" Harrison asked patiently.

"No," Vincent said simply.

"Anything at all?" Harrison asked. "Any hats, jackets, that that man was wearing?"

"His jacket was just a plain work jacket," Vincent said. "Something about Bob and air conditioning. Holy shit! These globes, man, they still have Russia as the U.S.S.R."

"Bob's Air Conditioning?" Harrison asked, ignoring the comment about he globes.

"Man, I don't know," Vincent whined, sounding like a small child who just wants to stop answering questions and go back to playing with his toys.

"Do you know where Bob's Air Conditioning is?" Harrison asked Jesse. She nodded.

"Who the fuck are you with?" Vincent asked, sounding slightly deranged.

"Get there as fast as you can," Harrison said to Jessie, ignoring Vincent's question. He didn't seem to notice.

"Got it," Jessie muttered, sensing that it was probably a good idea to keep her voice down. Vincent didn't hear her. She started driving faster.

"I'll be there in a few minutes," he said.

"I don't even fucking know if it's the right fucking place," Vincent said mournfully. "Jesus Christ, Harrison. She's fucking dead."

"Just…try not to do anything stupid," Harrison said simply. Vincent didn't reply. Harrison hung up the phone.

"What's going on?" Jessie asked, looking excited.

"Vincent's in trouble," Harrison answered. "Him and Jackson's father, Brian, got grabbed while at the hospital. Vincent's being held somewhere. Scarlett…"

He trailed off. Jessie glanced at him, hearing the tears in his voice. She knew what had happened. He didn't have to finish.

"Bob's Air Conditioning?" she asked.

"He doesn't know, but that's what was on the jacket of the man that got him," Harrison answered. He closed his eyes for a moment and ran a hand over his forehead. He inhaled and then exhaled deeply, forcing himself to focus and stop panicking. When he opened his eyes again, he was completely in professional mode. There would be no more personal feelings for the rest of the day. (Of course, Harrison could tell himself that all he wanted, but he was too soft to be a professional like Jackson). "Pull over," he said. "Let me get behind the wheel."

Jessie did as he said quickly, and she got out of the car immediately and ran over to his side, jumping in the passenger seat and bucking her seatbelt as he slid over to the other side. He was very impressed. Most civilians who had inadvertently been dragged into the middle of jobs froze up and didn't respond well to directions. Jessie was proving to be everything that he didn't expect her to be.

"Do you need me to do anything?" she asked, further proving this theory.

"I might," Harrison answered. "But as of right now, no. Just be ready for anything. And try to keep your head down."

He started the car and pulled away from the curb with more speed than Jessie knew her car had. He seemed to have a feel for cars. She could tell by the way he nudged it in all the right places and the way he handled it like he had been driving it his entire life.

"You're not going to do anything stupid, are you?" she asked nervously.

"Only if the cops decide that they want to try and chase me," Harrison replied. Jessie didn't have anything to say to that, and even if she had, she wouldn't have been able to say it. A few seconds later, Harrison slammed his foot on the accelerator, and they shot forward into traffic.

* * *

"What's going on?" Jacqueline asked Jackson. He paced back and forth like a caged animal, his teeth lifted in a snarl. 

"Don't try to pretend you don't know what this is," he practically shouted in her face. "I know you know everything. I know you're just as much a part of this as Riley is."

"Jackson…" Jacqueline started, sounding terrified, but he would not allow her to try and defend herself.

"Goddammit, Jacqueline!" he yelled. "Stop trying to play games with me. You know me. You know I can see through the worst of lies."

That wasn't true. He didn't see anything in Jacqueline's eyes but fear. But he knew that she was like Lisa, and she could keep her emotions masked from him because of the simple fact that she knew he could read them. Therefore, he could sense the attempt at masking. He knew without a doubt that she was hiding something.

"I'm not lying to you," she said through clenched teeth. "Jackson, you have to believe me."

"I don't have to believe anything," Jackson growled. He took a step forward, and she pushed herself back. He took great satisfaction in knowing that she was afraid of him. "But I know that you're hiding something from me, and I aim to know what it is. I could make you tell me. You know I could."

"I'm not hiding anything," Jacqueline whispered, though it was clear even as she said so that she was hiding many things from him.

"You've always been a terrible liar," Jackson said, slipping into the voice he used when he was trying to intimidate someone. It was the same voice that he had used with Lisa on the infamous red eye flight; the quiet, gentle tone. "Even the little things. And you've always been a terrible person. I don't know why it took me so long to see it and call you on it. Now I want you to tell you what the fuck is going on, and I want you to tell me what the fuck your involvement in this whole thing is, or I swear to God that I'm going to kill you in the most painful way you can possibly imagine."

For a moment, he really thought she was going to start crying. The look on her face would have been utterly heartbreaking if he had been feeling any compassion at the moment. Then, she seemed to grow a backbone.

"I can tell you a thousand times that I had nothing to do with any of this, and I know that not one of those times will you believe me. Fine. I accept that. But I can't accept that you've completely lost all feelings for me…"

"Look around, Jacquie!" Jackson exclaimed, his voice taking on a slightly insane edge. "We're in a fucking prison cell. Something fucking _bad _is going to happen and we both know it. This is _not _the time to be talking about our fucking _feelings_."

Jacqueline looked at him for a moment like she had been slapped in the face, but then her face sagged slightly with understanding.

"You're right," she said dully. "I'm sorry. I…I don't know why I said that."

Hearing the apology in her voice took all will to stay mad at her out of Jackson completely. He sighed and nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "Me neither."

He almost apologized, but then didn't. He didn't think she deserved an apology. She probably would have taken it the wrong way, anyway.

He wondered where Lisa was.

* * *

Joey walked quickly out to his car, waving at a few people as he passed. There was a big group of them moving towards the front door, all laughing and joking. Joey wondered if they had heard about what happened at the hospital. He doubted it. In any case, he didn't really want to stick around. He had an errand to run. He hopped into his car and backed out of the parking space with a skill that he was beginning to doubt after his little accident earlier. He knew he really shouldn't be driving; after all, his arm hurt like hell when he bent it. But, he reasoned, he had driven back to the complex by himself and nothing bad had happened to him then. He was getting something for Leya, anyway. 

He pulled out of the driveway just as another car pulled in. He recognized the driver and waved and smiled sadly. The driver waved and smiled back, and then Joe continued driving, not realizing that he had just driven past the man who held Leya's fate in his hands.

* * *

Lisa knocked on her father's door, but there was no answer. She sighed and knocked harder, but still, he didn't reply. She sighed heavily and pulled out her cell phone, dialing his number quickly. 

"Hello?" he answered.

"Dad? Where are you?" Lisa asked.

"I'm at home," Joe said sheepishly. "I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have. It's just that I couldn't remember if I had put my milk away or not before I left, and I didn't want it to stink up the whole house…"

"Don't worry about it," Lisa said, somehow managing to keep the tears out of her voice. "I'm coming home, too."

"What about the little problem?" Joe asked, sounding surprised.

"I doubt they'll be looking for us," Lisa replied. She gazed around sadly. She had grown fond of the idea of living in the complex with everyone. It was something she knew she could have gotten used to, but now the idea seemed further away than ever. She sighed heavily.

"Honey, are you okay?" Joe asked in a concerned tone.

"No," Lisa said, answering that question honestly for perhaps the first time in her entire life. "I'm not okay. I'm coming home."

"Okay," Joe said. He sounded surprised. "Okay, honey. Come on home."

"I'll be there soon," Lisa said, and she hung up her phone.

She walked down the hallway slowly. She didn't want to leave. She knew that more than she knew anything else. She didn't want to leave, but she had to. Her pride wouldn't let her stay after the incident in Jackson's room. She felt like she had ruined the greatest chance of all her life, but at the same time, she was almost relieved. Being with Jackson would have been a lot of work. Perhaps more than it was worth.

Lisa's feet froze in place as she realized that that wasn't true.

She turned and walked faster and faster across the center. She reached Jackson's room and threw the doors open, not registering that it was surprising for them to be unlocked.

"Jackson, I…"

She stopped as she realized that there was no one in the room. However, there was a note sitting on the floor. She picked it up.

"Lisa," she read. "In case you try to come back and try to apologize, forget it. You were right. I've chosen Jacqueline. If you would, please leave the key to your room on my desk. Thank you. Jackson."

She stared at the note for a few moments and dropped it to the floor. She didn't realize that it wasn't his writing. She didn't realize that Jackson didn't talk like that and it didn't sound like anything he would write either. She just focused on one thing.

"Lisa?" she asked aloud. "What?"

Though the alarms in her brain were going off (Jackson didn't call her _Lisa_, ever), she shook her head quickly and dismissed it as hopeful thinking. It was also paranoid; thinking that Jacqueline could have planted that in his room to throw her off. It didn't really matter much, though. Jackson had chosen Jacqueline and that was all there was to it. Without Scarlett around to help her, there was no point in even staying.

Suddenly, the phone rang. She jumped a little, but then decided that she might as well answer it. She crossed the room swiftly and picked it up.

"Hello?" she asked, not bothering to mask her voice.

"Lisa?" asked the frightened voice on the other end. "This is Harrison. Where's Jackson?"

"I don't know," Lisa replied, looking down at the note on the floor. "Off with his little whore, I assume. Where are you? You're in a lot of trouble, you know."

"What?" Harrison asked, sounding confused. Lisa realized with relief that Harrison had no idea what the hell she was talking about.

"Dave Tilden is dead," she said. "The only person who would have had access to his cell was you. Riley has your card swiped in."

"What the fuck?" Harrison swore. "I thought I lost that somewhere out here."

"No," Lisa said. "Someone in here took it."

"Who the fuck could have taken it?" Harrison asked.

"I suggested Jacqueline, but Jackson bit my head off for it," Lisa replied. "He was much quicker to think that you were the one who did it."

"What the fuck?" Harrison asked again, this time sounding weary rather than pissed off.

"I was just about to leave," Lisa said tiredly.

"What? You can't leave. Lisa, didn't today show you anything? You're not safe."

"Jackson doesn't care," Lisa muttered. She realized that she sounded like a complete idiot, but something in her couldn't bring herself to care.

"_I _care," Harrison said bitterly. "I care, and Vincent cares, and…" he trailed off. Lisa could hear the sadness in his voice.

"She's dead, isn't she?" she asked in a low, shocked tone.

"Yeah," Harrison whispered. Lisa put a hand to her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut, sobbing into her hand. "Don't cry, Lisa. I'm going to get Vincent right now. Someone grabbed him. He's at some warehouse or something…" He trailed off, and Lisa could tell that he was about ready to cry as well. She let the tears fall freely, and she didn't bother to wipe them away.

"Okay," she whispered. "I have to go find Jackson and tell him, now."

It was clear that they both knew that she was looking for an excuse to stay.

"Just don't leave the complex," Harrison said quickly. "You're safe there."

Lisa nodded and hung up the phone. She would look back on that moment later and realize how ironic that comment turned out to be.

* * *

He walked down the stairs with confidence and ease. Two of his men followed behind, unarmed and wearing no protective gear. Behind them were five more men, at the top of the stairs. They were unarmed, as well. No one had any weapons. No one had any way of defending themselves. But they were going to take over the complex. 

"Good luck to you," Tom Belmont's creaking voice whispered in his ear. "For Jimmy."

"For Jimmy," He answered. He turned to one of his men. "For Jimmy."

"For Jimmy," replied the man.

They reached the gate, and He smiled up at the camera.

"Sal!" he shouted at the intercom. "Come on, you old bat. It's me! Let me in!"

"Patience is a virtue!" Sal shouted back. The three men laughed pleasantly.

"That's a good one, Sal," He answered. "Now open the goddamned door."

The door slid open. He smiled. It was going to be as easy as he expected.


	13. So Kiss Me Goodbye

Ugh, sorry for the wait. Softball's a bitch. I've been at a tournament all weekend, and the week before that was spent with games every night, so I've had very, very little time to work on writing this. I've fallen behind considerably.

I'm going on vacation for a while, so my stories will be on a short hiatus. I'll have my laptop with me, but no internet connection, so I can at least work on it, thankfully. And maybe I can get a little ahead of myself.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I love you dearly!

Hehe, I love the song of this chapter. Plus, the movie Snakes on A Plane looks amazingly horrible in a way that is so amazing that you have to see it. I thought it fit well because of the metaphors revolving around snakes on a plane, which is definitely what Jackson is.

Please review!

**Jen: **Hehehe, well, here it is :) Thanks for the review!  
**Joelle: **I like to keep the readers guessing. It wouldn't be fun if I told you who the killer was right away without making you guess. :) You shall see, you shall seeee! Thanks for reviewing!  
**Lorelle:** ooooo I got you into Taking Back Sunday? Yes! I'm so happy! I saw them live a while back, and they're completely amazing. Oh, and check out their video for Makedamnsure. The lead singer, Adam Lazarra, is completely amazingly hot in it. :) I agree with you about the whole Harrison thing. He's as new to this as we are, and it's like having a character that we can look from their point of view for. It helps out the reader considerably.  
:( Poor Scarlett.  
hahaha my sister will see Red Eye soon enough. Once she stops being the ten year old softball allstar that she is. Silly girl.  
Thanks for reviewing!

* * *

**Chapter 13: **So Kiss Me Goodbye

Times are strange  
We've got a free upgrade for snakes on a plane  
Fuck 'em, I don't care  
Pop the cheap champagne, we're goin' down in flames  
Hey!

Oh, I'm ready for it, come on, bring it  
Oh, I'm ready for it, come on, bring it  
Oh, I'm ready for it, come on, bring it  
Oh, I'm ready for it, come on, bring it

So kiss me goodbye  
Honey, I'm gonna make it out alive  
So kiss me goodbye  
I can see the venom in their eyes  
Goodbye

It's time to fly  
Tonight the sky's alive  
With lizards serpentine  
Lounging in their suits and ties  
Watch the whores parade, for the price of fame  
Hey!

Oh, I'm ready for it, come on, bring it  
Oh, I'm ready for it, come on, bring it  
Oh, I'm ready for it, come on, bring it  
Oh, I'm ready for it, come on, bring it

So kiss me goodbye  
Honey, I'm gonna make it out alive  
So kiss me goodbye  
I can see the venom in their eyes  
So kiss me goodbye  
Honey, I'm gonna make it out alive  
So kiss me goodbye  
I can see the venom in their eyes  
Goodbye

Ladies and gentlemen,  
Snakes is slitherin'  
With dollar signs in they eyes  
With tongues so reptilian  
This industry's venomous  
With cold-blooded sentiment  
No need for nervousness  
It's just a little turbulence

So kiss me goodbye  
Honey, I'm gonna make it out alive  
So kiss me goodbye  
I can see the venom in their eyes  
So kiss me goodbye  
Honey, I'm gonna make it out alive  
So kiss me goodbye  
I can see the venom in their eyes  
Goodbye

Oh, I'm ready for it, come on, bring it  
Oh, I'm ready for it, come on, bring it  
Oh, I'm ready for it, come on, bring it  
Oh, I'm ready for it, come on, bring it

Cobra Starship  
Snakes on a Plane

* * *

Harrison shot down the road at a speed that was probably the exact opposite of what he should have been going. Jessie grabbed onto the dashboard as he made a sharp left turn.

"Harrison, please, slow down," she said breathlessly, surprisingly feeling a little but of fear. "What if we get pulled over?"

"We're not going to be pulled over," Harrison said, glancing at her. "I'd like to see a cop that can outrun me, even in this car."

"Hey," Jessie said, offended. "I like my car."

"Hope it can go as fast as I'm planning on going," Harrison said regretfully, and then he jammed down harder on the accelerator. Jessie hadn't thought it possible to go any faster, but there they were, doing at least one hundred and twenty miles per hour. Cars flew past them, looking like they were going backwards. Jessie watched them with the wide-eyed fear of a small child. She felt rebellious when she did sixty on that road.

"Holy shit," she whispered, and as soon as she said it, she realized that she wasn't afraid anymore. She trusted Harrison. She trusted him, and she actually found that everything they were doing was slightly more than just a little exciting.

"Don't worry," Harrison said, further alleviating her fears. "I used to be a messenger. Gets you a lot of experience driving like this."

"You ever been pulled over?" Jessie asked.

"Nope," Harrison replied, shaking his head. "They've come after me, but I haven't been pulled over."

"Meaning you just speed up when they put their sirens on?" Jessie asked.

"Speed up and take sharp turns. That's what I do," Harrison replied. He kept his eyes firmly on the road ahead. "We're close, I think."

"Kind of," Jessie agreed, shrugging. "We've still got a good ten minutes."

"I bet I could get there in five," Harrison said. Jessie didn't say anything. She just held on tighter.

* * *

Leya groaned and rolled her eyes at the terrible clichéd ending of the assassin movie. The 'bad guy', the assassin, lost. The 'good guy', the over-paid government official who was cheating on his wife, won. She hated when that happened. Since when was an adulterer a good guy? And, of course, he went back to his wife and son and vowed to himself that he would never cheat on her again. He didn't tell her that he was cheating on her, though. Leya scoffed at that.

"Hero, my ass," she muttered. She flicked through the channels idly, already knowing that there was going to be nothing to watch. Every room in the complex had every channel known to man, but there was never anything good on whenever Leya wanted to sit down and watch television. It seemed to always work that way.

Out of habit, Leya pressed the button on her control that would normally allow her access to her Playstation. Instead, a camera view of her room popped into view. She grabbed the Playstation controller off her bed and clicked the left arrow. The view changed to the hallway outside her door. There was someone standing across the hall, talking on his phone. She played around and zoomed in all the way, seeing from the display on his cell phone that he was calling 'Mary'.

Leya, being the technological genius that she was, had rigged the camera system of the complex so that she could control it via her Playstation controller. No one but Joe knew about it (or so she thought), and she intended to keep it that way. It was a handy thing to have, though. It was how she and Joe had discovered that there were gunmen in the complex three months before. It was only because of the cameras that they had been able to escape through the garage.

Usually, however, the cameras were just a way to keep her from killing herself when she was too bored to move. She liked to zoom in and out and figure out what everyone was doing. Because of it, she knew almost everything about almost everyone in the complex. The only room that didn't have a camera in it was Jackson's room, and the prison cells. The cameras in the bedrooms didn't actually show up on the complex's video room, but what went on in the rooms was recorded just in case the information was needed. Leya had found a way around it by playing around with it until she got it to work. She would never tell anyone, of course, but that was how she got most of her work done; trial and error

She flicked through the camera views. There weren't many people in their rooms. That was to be expected, of course. No one really wanted to be stuck inside. Then, Leya saw a camera view that had never appeared on her screen before. It was the jail hallway. Leya sat up straight, her boredom evaporating in an instant. The cameras in the prison hallway had been shut off permanently a while ago because it was decided that no one really needed to see what was done in there. She didn't recall reading any e-mails regarding the reinstallation of them, and she knew that Harrison would have told her if they had decided to do that.

"What the fuck?" she asked quietly to herself, scanning the room quickly. She could see someone standing at the far end of the hallway, at the guardhouse. She could tell by the way he stood that it was Riley. She panned back and something glinting caught her eye. She pushed the camera to focus on the cell from which it was coming, her eyebrows drawn tightly together. She knew that something was wrong. She just didn't know how wrong things were going to go wrong very soon.

* * *

"What are you doing?" Jacqueline asked.

"See the camera?" Jackson asked, flashing the sunlight off the small compact mirror in his hands again into the camera lens.

"Yeah," Jacqueline said, sounding annoyed. "And?"

"Leya's got the entire complex rigged on her television. I bet anything that that's her controlling that camera right now. They've reinstalled it to keep an eye on us, and it'll automatically install on her screen. She thinks I don't know about it, but I noticed it a few months back."

Jacqueline looked at Jackson skeptically.

"What?" she asked simply. Jackson didn't bother to explain. He just flashed the mirror again. The camera moved back over to him. He dropped the mirror and stuck his hand out from between the bars. His fingers flashed through the air speedily.

"Come on, come on," Jackson muttered.

"What are you doing?" Jacqueline asked again.

"Sign language," Jackson responded. "Leya must have had a deaf sibling or something. She's fluent. She's always been an asset on missions for that reason."

"You take her with you on missions?" Jacqueline asked incredulously. Jackson didn't answer. He just kept signing. The camera stopped moving. He sighed with relief.

"She turned it off," he said. "She's coming."

"What did you tell her?" Jacqueline asked.

"Not now," Jackson replied, closing his eyes and pushing his fingers to his temples. Jacqueline knew better than to do _anything_ while he was like that. Any wrong move could get you killed.

Instead, she looked up and down the hallway and prayed for the first time in a long, long time.

* * *

Lisa locked Jackson's doors and stood facing his room, glancing around. She suddenly got the mischievous urge to go through his things. It wasn't often that one found themselves alone in there. In fact, she was pretty sure that no one else had been. Jackson was pretty protective about his things.

She walked over to his desk and opened the drawer. It was impeccably organized, with paper clips, staples, pencils, elastic bands, and other office supplies all in their place. Lisa bet that he would have noticed if any single thing was moved. She sighed and closed that drawer. She opened one of the bottom drawers. In there, she found files from all of the jobs that everyone was working on. There were a lot of them; apparently business was good. In the drawer above that were several books that Jackson apparently was planning on reading. She took them out and shook out the pages, but there was nothing interesting. In the drawers opposite that, she found computer equipment and other uninteresting items. She sighed and walked away from the desk, already utterly bored. She walked across the office room and over to the door that led to Jackson's bedroom. She hadn't been in there since the massacre three months before. It had been remodeled completely, and looked a lot nicer than it had when Jimmy lived there. There were paintings on the wall, and Lisa would have bet anything that they were painted by Angelina Davis. The sheets were neat and unrumpled. There probably was not a speck of dust in the entire room.

Then, Lisa saw something that she never expected to see. There was a bedside table, and on that table was a cluster of frames. She walked towards them, intrigued. There were pictures of Vincent and Scarlett, of Leya and Joe, of Harrison and Vincent, and even an old yellowed one of Jimmy, Amora, and Baby James. She smiled and picked that picture up, and she saw the frame that was behind it. It was a double frame, which fit two large pictures. The one on the left was of he and his mother. The one on the right was of he and Lisa.

Lisa stared at the picture for a while, and then slowly picked it up. It had been one of their first outings. They had been walking though the park with Scarlett, Vincent, and Harrison. They had all been fooling around, and in the picture, Jackson and Lisa were both laughing. She had her eyes closed and she was leaning towards him as he had a hand around her waist and was laughing down at her. Lisa remembered that she had said something particularly stupid, and when she realized what she had said, they had all laughed together. Scarlett had taken the picture. Lisa closed her eyes and put the frame back down in its place, sinking down to Jackson's bed and running a hand through her hair.

Not for the first time, she wondered why Jackson had to be so confusing. She knew that it wasn't fair for her to think, because he had had such a hard life, but she would have given anything in that moment for him to make sense. Everything good that he did was balanced out by something equally bad. Yet, she couldn't allow herself to just walk away from him like she knew inside that she should. There was something about him that seemed to be better than anything she could find anywhere else. She just wasn't sure what it was, yet.

She lay her head down on the pillow and told herself that in a few moments, she would go looking for Jackson. She didn't take into account how tired she was, and as soon as she closed her eyes, she was fast asleep.

* * *

Leya had played many jokes on her friends in the complex by sneaking into their rooms. She had also snuck out of her room many times after her curfew. No one had ever been told how she did it, and she never felt the need to tell them that it was just a little bit of cliché that helped her out.

After she got the message from Jackson (it's Jackson, you need to help me. Riley is dirty. You have to knock him out and get me out) she quickly crossed over to her wall and rolled her desk out of the way. There was a vent behind it. The vents were almost never used in the complex anymore, but they still remained behind. They were very small; not big enough for a grown man to fit through, but Leya was no grown man. She pulled the grate off the wall and slid in. Using her feet, she maneuvered the desk in front of the open vent so no one would be able to see that it was missing.

Leya had always been a little claustrophobic, so crawling through the vent was not her idea of a great time. She was also afraid of the dark, and the vents were impossibly dark. She knew the way to the prison almost as well as she knew the back of her own hand, however, and she just closed her eyes and moved forward, drowning her fears in the urgency of the moment.

* * *

Harrison pulled the car into the back lot of Bob's Air Conditioning, parking haphazardly across three spaces. He tore the keys out of the ignition and jumped out of the car. Jessie followed a little slower, but not enough for it to be a considerable difference. There were no other cars in the lot, and no sound came from the building.

"God, I hope he's in here," Harrison swore under his breath. They ran to the closest door. It was locked, but Harrison opened it with a swift kick. The sound echoed through the empty warehouse.

"Vincent?" shouted Harrison, listening for a reply. There was none. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair before shouting again. Still nothing. He closed the door behind him and started jogging into the building. It was old and run down, and packed full of useless machinery that was probably at least ten years obsolete. It also didn't seem to have anything to do with air conditioning. "Definitely an organization building," he mused. "What the fuck would any organization have to do with this?"

"How do you know it's an organization building?" Jessie asked quietly.

"It fits the mold," Harrison answered, shrugging. "I don't remember it being on the list. Might be a smaller operation." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Maybe Derrick Salisbury."

"Who?" Jessie asked.

"He had something to do with an attempt on Lisa's life earlier in the week," Harrison answered thoughtfully. He glanced around the room and shouted Vincent's name again. Suddenly, something behind them crashed. They both whirled around. Jessie grabbed Harrison's arm.

There was nothing there.

"What the…?" Harrison started to ask, but suddenly there was a loud bang from behind them. Jessie screamed, and they both turned around again. A man stood in one of the doorways, smiling at them.

Harrison didn't have time to react. Someone grabbed him from behind and kicked him in the back of the knees. His legs gave out, and they shoved a bag over his head and handcuffed his hands together.

"Hey, shithead," said a voice that greatly reminded Harrison of a weasel. "Looks like you fell for old Vincent's trap."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Harrison growled. He could hear Jessie sobbing quietly next to him.

"You'll find out soon enough," the man chuckled. "But I think for now, I'll just tell you that you really can't trust who you thought you could."

"Ain't that the truth," replied another voice. They both chuckled together, and a horrified realization dawned on Harrison. Jessie started to scream.

"Leave her alone!" Harrison shouted. He got to his feet and kicked straight back. His foot connected with something fleshy, and someone shouted in pain. He crouched down and jumped over his interlocked hands, bringing them to the front of his body. Then, he ripped off the bag. Two men were holding Jessie by the shoulders. She was watching him with wide-eyed fear. Harrison charged towards them, and they dropped her.

"Stupid shithead," swore one of them.

"Run!" Harrison yelled to Jessie, who was sprawled on the floor. She got to her feet and started to head for the door. Harrison kneed one man in the groin, then grabbed his head and threw him into the other man. The other man dodged him but Harrison swung his handcuffed hands and hit him in the side of the face. Two more men jumped Harrison from behind, but he managed to roll out from under them. Another man slammed his foot down on Harrison's stomach, knocking the wind out of him and cracking a few of his ribs in the process.

"You're good," the man said. "I won't lie. I'm slightly impressed. But you have to realize that you can't get out of this shit."

Harrison brought both his knees up and hit the man right in the back of the knee. He fell on top of Harrison, and Harrison rolled on top of him, slamming his hands down on either side of the man's neck, strangling him. Suddenly, he heard a scream. He looked to where it came from and saw that one of the men had Jessie by the hair and was dragging her back into the room. This momentary distraction was all that the man beneath him needed, and he punched Harrison in the side of the face. Harrison fell to the side, and the man grabbed him by the neck and pulled him to his feet. He was a big man, and he easily held Harrison in his grasp.

"Boss?" the man with Jessie asked nervously.

"You know what to do," the man holding Harrison replied. "Same as the last one. I'll get him locked up."

"Harrison!" Jessie yelled.

"Stop it!" Harrison shouted. "Leave her alone!"

Then, there was a sharp pain on the back of his head, and all was black.

* * *

"You knew this was going to happen," Jacqueline said to Jackson, folding her arms across her chest with annoyance on her features. "Just calm down."

"How am I supposed to fucking calm down?" Jackson asked, briefly glancing at her as he continued his pacing back and forth of the tiny cell. "I need to get the fuck out of here before they go after anyone. I don't know why they're keeping us alive down here, but I know they must have _some _reason for it…"

"Whoever it is obviously isn't too fond of you," Jacqueline said bitterly. "God, I wish I hadn't even come back."

"Yeah, that makes both of us," Jackson muttered bitterly. Jacqueline heard, but she didn't say anything. She knew it was better to stay quiet and let him think.

"Leya's coming," she said comfortingly. "She won't just leave you here."

"You're putting an awful lot of faith in a person you hated just yesterday," Jackson said, marveling that it had only been the day before when the biggest problem had been what to do about Jacqueline and Lisa.

Jacqueline opened her mouth to protest, but then she fell silent bitterly. The last thing they needed was a pointless argument.

"Look…" she started, trying to think of something to say that wouldn't piss him off, and then dismissing it as a hopeless cause anyway. "I know you don't think this is the best time for this, but we're stuck here and we're not going anywhere for a while, no matter what you do, so I think I deserve an answer."

Jackson looked at her for a moment, and then slowly nodded, as if he knew he wasn't going to like whatever it was that she was going to say.

"Go ahead," he said with the utmost reluctance.

"What's going on between you and Lisa?" she asked. "I'm just curious. I want to know."

"Nothing, anymore," Jackson muttered bitterly. He looked down at the ground and ran a hand through his hair.

"What happened?" Jacqueline asked.

"She told me that you were the last person that was with Harrison, and that if anyone had stolen his card, it had to be you. I believed you over him, and she was highly disappointed in me. She yelled at me, told me that whatever it was that we had, it was over. Apparently there were some repressed issues that I wasn't completely aware of."

"I thought you knew she was jealous?"

"Jealous?" Jackson asked with a dry chuckle. "Lisa doesn't have to be jealous of you. Lisa is ten times the person you'll ever be. Lisa thought I had chosen you, and after Scarlett's accident…things just fell apart for her."

He trailed off, a thoughtfully sad look on his face. Jacqueline stayed quiet out of respect. She didn't know what he was thinking about, but she had a feeling that it was something to do with Scarlett. It didn't matter if Jacqueline didn't like her; she had always respected the other woman, and she was truly worried for her.

The comment about Lisa not having to be jealous, however, disturbed her. It was the tone that did it, really. He sounded so sad and lost. She had never, ever heard Jackson Rippner sound like that in all the years that she had known him. He had always been strong and unbreakable. Love seemed to be more an amusement for him than a necessity. But it was clear to Jacqueline that he needed this Lisa girl more than he had ever needed anything in his entire life.

And that killed Jacqueline inside.

* * *

Leya peered down at Riley from the vent she was hiding in. She had managed to remove the grate without him noticing (she didn't know how; she supposed that he just had to be an idiot), and she positioned herself above the opening so that she would be able to get the right angle. As far as she saw it, there was no other way to do what she was going to do. She had to jump down on Riley and hope to take him out. She didn't have to worry about the noise, but she was worried about the fact that she was quite a bit less than healthy.

Taking a deep breath, Leya repositioned herself several times before finally just jumping.

"What the…?" Riley began, but then Leya slammed into him. She wasn't a very heavy girl, but the force of her fist connecting roughly with his shoulder was enough to knock Riley to the ground. His head slammed into the tiled floor, and he was instantly knocked cold.

"Jesus mother cock-sucking donkey licking fucker!" Leya whispered hoarsely, clutching her hand and hissing in pain. She had felt the bones cracking in her fingers; not a pleasant feeling.

After recollecting herself and managing to pull herself off the ground, Leya hurried into the control room. She pressed the button that would open all of the doors, since she didn't remember which one Jackson was in. There weren't any other people in any of the cells anyway, she was pretty sure.

She exited the control room just in time to see Jackson and Jacqueline rushing down the hall towards her.

"Jackson!" she yelped. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Jackson panted. "Leya, I'm gonna need some serious help here. I…" he broke off as he saw her purple and swollen hand. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine," Leya said sarcastically. "What's a few broken bones in the right hand? Good thing I'm a lefty!"

"Can you still type?"

"I could still type if I had to gnaw my own hands off," Leya scoffed. "Why?"

"I need you to hack into Sal's files," Jackson said. "Use the computer in the control room. See who has entered the complex today. See if there's anything weird at all, all right?"

"Yeah, okay," Leya said. "What about Riley?"

Jackson bent down next to Riley, grabbing Riley's knife. Leya wisely walked into the control room, knowing that Jackson would take care of it. Jacqueline didn't look away.

* * *

He walked through the complex with a wide smile on his face and a greeting for everyone he passed. He knew everyone, and everyone knew him. It was a good feeling, being loved. It was also a good feeling to be able to get into the arms storage room without being stopped.

"Get whatever you need, boys," he said to his men. They hurried around the room, like kids in a candy story. He stood at the front of the room and smiled. They were good men. They did the job. They wanted exactly what he wanted. They wanted the complex for themselves.

Some people called Him crazy. They compared him to Anthony Meyes, Ben Johnson, and even Derrick. Some people called him Jimmy's Dark Half. He had the same ambition, the same motives, the same everything. But he did what Jimmy never would have. He lied, he killed, he stole, and not for the good of others.

The fact of the matter was that He was a very, very sick man. He had been a sick man for more than thirty years. Over the years, He had developed something like multiple personality disorder, though no one was quite sure of the extent of it. He became someone that He wasn't. It was like having another person living inside of you.

He was His own evil twin.

* * *

Jacqueline and Jackson quickly sidled their way to Jackson's quarters. A few people waved, but no one seemed surprised to see them. No one ran off to tell anyone. Jackson figured that they were safe for the moment, but they still locked the doors.

"If anyone knocks, don't make a noise," he said to Jacqueline as he grabbed his laptop and opened it. "Don't make a sound. I'll check it out myself. We want them to think the room's empty."

There was a short silence between Jackson's statement and Jaqueline's prepared response, and in that silence they heard something move in the next room. Both froze, their eyes widening as they stared at one another. Jackson reached under his desk with expert swiftness, and he grabbed the knife he kept under there.

"Jackson, don't," Jacqueline hissed under her breath. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Stay here," Jackson responded. He slowly inched across the carpet, not making a sound. It was always slightly surreal to watch Jackson when he was being stealthy. He didn't make a single sound, not even a rustle of the carpet. It was like watching a ghost glide over the rug.

Jackson made his way silently across the room in a matter of seconds, though he appeared to be moving slowly. The door was open slightly, and he pushed it open without the squeak of groaning hinges. He heard something rustling over by his bed, and he prepared himself with the knife clutched tightly in his grip before he lunged into the room. He didn't utter a war cry or a scream like most men did when they charged into a room with an intruder. He wasn't an idiot. He wanted the intruder to be completely surprised.

As he was aiming for his bed, he had to completely put himself in reverse when he saw who it was he was about to impale with his knife. Lisa was sleeping, curled into a ball, with tears staining her cheeks. Jackson dropped the knife, and it clattered on the floor emptily. Jackson put his hand to his mouth and let out a shuddering breath. He had been mere inches from killing Lisa.

Jacqueline heard the knife clattering, and she rushed in, ready to defend herself. When she saw what Jackson was staring at, she made her way out of the room without a single word, keeping respectfully silent.

Lisa stirred and opened her eyes. When she saw Jackson there, she jumped with surprise.

"Sorry!" she exclaimed, flustered and unprepared. "I found the note, and I was just looking around to see how it had changed, and I must have fallen asleep…"

She trailed off as she noticed that Jackson was staring at her with a look of horror. He shook his head, and his face returned to its normal, bland countenance.

"What note?" he asked her.

"The one you left me," Lisa said sadly, looking down at the ground.

"I didn't leave you any note," Jackson said, puzzled. Lisa handed it to him wordlessly. He read it over and shook his head.

"No, no," he said angrily. "I didn't write this. Why would I write this? This isn't even my handwriting, Leese! Not even close!"

Lisa sighed with relief, though she hoped that Jackson didn't see it. Part of her screamed out that it knew it all along, that it was obvious that Jackson didn't do it.

"So who wrote it, then?" she asked. Jackson shook his head.

"I don't know," he said. "But a lot of shit has happened, Leese. Riley's dirty. And someone else in here is dirty too. Someone who we know, and Sal knows. But we don't know who it is."

"Riley's dirty?" Lisa asked with surprise. "Really?"

Riley was the last person she would have expected. He had always been kind to her, and he had always appeared to be kind to everyone else.

"He shoved me into a cell and admitted it," Jackson said, waving his hand. "He's dead, now."

"Did you kill him?" Lisa asked, her tone flat and dully uninterested.

"Yes," Jackson replied in the same tone. Lisa nodded.

"Okay," she said. Jackson knew it was hard for her to have to accept that some people weren't what they appeared to be. She would always argue that they _seemed _to be nice, and they _seemed _to be good, but Jackson would have to break the news to her that none of that meant anything. She still wasn't used to it. He didn't think she ever would be.

"Come on," Jackson said. "Leya's using the guardhouse computer now to try and figure out who's been let in since Riley trapped me in the cell. We're going to have to realize that it could be anyone that we know; anyone that we trust."

"Where's Jacqueline?" Lisa asked.

"She's with me," Jackson said, sighing heavily. "She was with me when Riley got us into the cell. I was trying to lock her up so we could question her about Dave's death, but it turned out that it wasn't her at all."

"You don't know that," Lisa argued.

"Leese, trust me," Jackson said emptily. "It wasn't her."

"It wasn't Harrison, either," Lisa replied. She froze, suddenly remembering exactly what she had been told when she was on the phone with Harrison.

"What is it?" Jackson asked, sensing that suddenly realization. She stared up at him, her mouth open in a shocked and hurt 'o'. "Leese?"

Suddenly, Lisa burst into tears. Jackson had no idea what to do, and for a few seconds he just stared at her. Then, he slowly put his arms around her. It was an awkward movement for him to do, as he was never one for comforting hugs, but it felt more natural than he expected it to.

"Oh my God," Lisa whispered, her tears staining the front of Jackson's jacket. For once, he didn't give a shit about his clothing. He didn't give a shit about the fact that he wasn't supposed to let himself get attached, that he wasn't supposed to fall in love. All he knew was that Lisa was in pain, and there was nothing he wanted more in the world than for it to go away.

"What happened when he called?" he asked in a soothing voice. He had used it many times in the past, but he had never wanted to sooth the person he was speaking to more than he wanted to at that moment. "What happened? What's wrong?"

"Scarlett's dead," Lisa sobbed, her eyes giant and doe-like as she looked up at him and sobbed into his chest. "She's dead. They couldn't save her."

Jackson stared down at Lisa with his entire body numbing with a broken sort of pain that was not unlike what he felt when he found out that Jimmy was dead.

"Oh my God," he whispered, and then he closed his eyes and tried to beat the tears down. They came anyway, and soon he was kissing Lisa. Kissing her, and he didn't know why. He shouldn't be kissing her. He should be finding a way to stop what was happening, but he couldn't stop. He didn't want to stop. For the first time in years, passion overtook him. He kept kissing her. He didn't remember that he had to breathe, that he had to find a way to save them all, that Jacqueline was standing right outside. He didn't care.

Lisa was the one who pushed away first. She stared up at him with her tear-stained eyes and her rumpled clothes, and two tears made their way out of her eyes.

"What is wrong with you?" she asked, distressed. "Why can't you just…?"

She trailed off, and Jackson closed his eyes. He didn't know what was wrong with him. He didn't know why he couldn't just be normal. That was probably what Lisa had meant to say. Normal.

"I don't know," he said bitterly. "I don't know, Leese."

"She's dead," Lisa whispered.

"I know," Jackson replied. "I…"

He trailed off, shaking his head. Dave and Scarlett were both dead, and they were both at least partly his fault. When would it end? He knew he could never forgive himself.

"Vincent's taken," Lisa continued. "Harrison's looking for him. Who knows what might happen?"

"I know, I know," Jackson muttered, putting a hand to his eyes. "I know, Leese."

"Then do something about it," Lisa said painfully. "Do something about it and let me help, because I want to stop them as much as you do, Jackson."

"I know," Jackson said.

"You seem to know everything, don't you?" Lisa asked bitterly. "Well how are we going to stop them?"

"We don't even know who they are," Jackson said. "We don't even know who it might be. It could be anyone. It could be Harrison, Vincent, Jacqueline. It could be you. It could be Leya. Joey. It could be anyone."

He looked tired and betrayed. Lisa felt like crying again.

"There must be something," she said.

"Not until Leya calls us," Jackson said. "Until then, we have to just sit here, and wait."

"This can't be happening," Lisa groaned. "I thought this was all over."

"Someone on the inside is trying to take all the power," Jackson mused. "But who would do that? Who would want that? Everyone's an equal here."

Lisa sat on the bed and put her head in her hands. Jackson sat beside her and pulled her into his arms automatically, the gears in his head still turning.

"I don't know," Lisa answered, thinking that he was talking to her. He wasn't, of course. He was just thinking out loud, hoping that he would be able to figure it out somehow if he said it.

The phone rang. Jackson jumped to his feet and ran into the other room, leaving Lisa there behind. Jacqueline was already at the desk, but she let him pick up the phone.

"Hello?" he said anxiously.

"It's Leya," Leya said breathlessly. "Shit, Jackson. You're not going to believe this."


	14. Just Forget Me, It's That Simple

Yeehaw, back from vacation. Here's the new chapter. Hope you like it. Especially the ending. But don't read ahead, or you'll spoil it! Teehee!

No time for individual reviews. I have 5 minutes!

Okay, for some reason the line tool isn't working. How am I supposed to live without the line tool?

Okay, I tried stars and squiggles and for some reason nothing fucking works anymore. So, I'm going to use 'o' to break up segments. Because there's nothing else

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

**Chapter 14: **Just Forget Me, It's That Simple

Just think of this and me  
as just a few of the many things  
to lie around  
to clutter up your shelves  
And I wish you weren't worth the wait  
because there's some thing's  
I'd like to say to you...

And I don't think that  
you know what  
you've been missing  
'Cause I don't think that  
you know what  
you've been missing

And I dare you to forget  
the marks you left  
across my neck  
from those nights when we were both  
found at our best  
Now I could make this obvious,  
and you, you could deny me  
all in one breath  
you could shrug me off  
your shoulders...

And I don't think that  
you know what  
you've been missing  
'Cause I don't think that  
you know what  
you've been missing

And I don't think that you know  
I said I don't think you know  
I said I don't think you know what your missing

Hey, lush, have fun  
It's the weekend  
Hey, lush, have fun

Hey, lush, have fun  
It's the weekend  
Hey, lush, have fun

I don't think that  
you know what  
you've been missing  
I don't think that  
you know what  
you've been missing

Just forget me  
it's that simple  
Just forget me  
it's that simple

**Your Own Disaster  
Taking Back Sunday**

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Harrison awoke in a room that he did not recognize, with a single light glowing overhead. He didn't want to sit up and see where he was; he didn't want to even move. It felt better to just lie there and breathe. But even then, his head pounded. He felt like throwing up. He didn't want to open his eyes.

Suddenly, he heard a door open. His body didn't move, and he lay there silently, hoping that whoever it was would go away.

"Still out," someone laughed. "You got him good."

Someone else chuckled slightly, and then he heard someone whimpering.

"Get in there," someone jeered, and then he heard someone being shoved into the room. The door slammed. Everything was silent. Then, he heard someone crying.

He knew he had to force his eyes open, but he felt so heavy. Everything about him felt overweight. He heard someone coming across the room towards him, and warm hands were laid on his back.

"Harrison?"

He recognized the shaky voice. And suddenly everything came back to him. It was Jessie. Jessie, that beautiful, innocent girl from the hospital. He had gotten her into this mess. He had gotten her hurt. He knew what those men would have done to her. He forced his eyes open.

"Jessie," he croaked hoarsely. Jessie helped him sit up. Her face was pale except for the streaks of black mascara making a dark river down her face.

"Oh, Harrison," Jessie sobbed. Harrison forced his arms to weave around her small, impossibly frail body.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, tears springing from his eyes before he could help himself. She shook in his arms, and he held her tighter, trying to hold her so tightly that she would stop shaking. He would give anything if she would just stop shaking.

"Are you okay?" she asked him, sniffling lightly.

"Am _I _okay?" he asked incredulously. He pulled her back to look at her, and then shook his head and pulled her back into his arms. "Shh, Jessie."

Jessie gave up talking, and she just cried as Harrison held her.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Joey pulled into the garage just before the door slid closed behind him. He glanced in the rearview mirror with surprise. That door never closed unless something was wrong. Had he been followed? He hadn't noticed.

"Great," he muttered, rolling his eyes Heavenward. "You're just full of greatness, aren't you?"

He pulled into his parking spot bitterly and put the car into park. He had just pulled the keys out of the ignition when he heard the alarms going off. He froze in his seat and looked around incredulously. Everything in the garage appeared to be calm. He grabbed his Taco Bell bags and ran into the complex before the inner door could close. No one was at the gate. He ran in and down the hallway, thanking God that he didn't have to go through the center to get to Leya's room. He reached her room quickly and knocked on the door.

"Leya?" he called. "You in there?"

She didn't answer, so he sighed and pulled his spare key from his pocket. He opened the door, thinking that she was sleeping. When he saw that she wasn't in her bed, he froze. There was no sound from the bathroom, but he checked in there anyway. Nothing.

He put the Taco Bell down on the bed and looked around wildly. Somehow, his eyes landed on the open grate. He reached for the Playstation controller.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Who is it?" Jackson asked frantically.

"Well, I don't know who it is," Leya admitted. "But Vincent's here."

"What?" Jackson asked with surprise.

"Yeah," Leya said. "He's here with Scarlett."

"Scarlett's dead," Jackson said.

"What?" Leya asked incredulously. "Jackson, she's right here. She's in the center, moving towards you."

Jackson hung up the phone without saying anything to Leya.

"What's going on?" Lisa asked, walking out of the bedroom.

"Leya said that Scarlett's alive, and that she's headed this way with Vincent." Jackson said. "Harrison was lying to us!"

"Why would he lie to us?" Lisa asked, though she was filled with relief to know that Scarlett was all right.

"Wait a second," Jacqueline said suddenly. "I think they tampered with the cameras to make us think it was Scarlett."

"Why?" Jackson asked, confused.

"You told me she was shot right in the chest. That wasn't long ago at all. Only a few hours. She wouldn't be up by now."

Lisa and Jackson's hope faded, and was replaced with a sharp, painful fear.

"Oh my God," Jackson hissed. "You're right. Quick. This way."

He grabbed Lisa's hand, and they ducked into the bedroom just as a knock sounded at the door. The phone rang again. Everyone ignored it. Jackson led them to a spot on his carpet where there was a coffee stain. He grabbed a fistful of the carpet, and it pulled it up to reveal a steel door with a keypad on it. It was one of the many secret passages in the complex. The knocking continued.

"Where does that lead?" Lisa asked fearfully.

"Outside," Jackson said quickly. He punched in the code, and pulled the door open effortlessly. "Jacqueline, you go first."

The passage below them was dark and had a ladder leading down into the ground below, which they could not see.

"How did you get this in here?" Jacqueline asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

"It was always there," Jackson replied. "One of Jimmy's many secrets. Now go."

Jacqueline didn't need to be told again. She hurried down the ladder. Lisa went second, and lastly Jackson followed them after grabbing a flashlight which was hanging on the wall over his bed. It had been for use in case of a power outage, and he was glad that he had kept it on hand.

He pulled the door shut, and immediately the incessant knocking was drowned out. He twisted the lock on the door, and started down after Lisa and Jacqueline.

"Where _are _we?" Jacqueline asked with wonder. She and Lisa were standing together and staring at the hallway in front of them. It was dark and cavernous, with water dripping off the walls and slime growing on the walls.

"It looks like a sewer," Lisa said, wrinkling her nose in disgust. Jackson didn't say anything. He just brushed past them and continued walking. He grabbed Lisa's hand and pulled her along with him.

"We need to get down this hallway. If it's someone who knows where the doors are and what their codes are, we're in deep shit unless we hurry," he said robotically. He was in professional mode, and there wasn't anything that could break him out of it. Lisa squeezed his hand as if to remind him that she was there, that he couldn't hide his emotions from her. He glanced at her, and his eyes told her that he knew he couldn't hide.

He dragged her down the hallway at a speed that made her legs ache with tiredness and made her head ache with dizziness. Jacqueline trotted along admirably in her high heeled shoes, keeping up with them despite the fact that she must have been sporting more than just a few blisters on her feet.

"What are we gonna do when we get out there?" Lisa asked. Jackson turned to look at her.

"_I'm_ going back in," he said pointedly. "I need to find out what the hell's going on. _You're_ going to go somewhere safe; somewhere that they can't get you."

Lisa didn't say anything to that. She glanced at Jacqueline, and the other woman shook her head slowly. Lisa nodded. They would have a plan of their own.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Leya was looking through Sal's files when she heard a heavy thud outside the guardhouse door. She froze and grabbed the weapon which Jackson had left her; a knife. She wasn't very well trained with weapons, though she had some basic training, and she knew how to use a knife effectively. She was also very stealthy. She prayed that that was all she would need.

She crept towards the door and peered out. Someone was getting up from the ground. It appeared that they had fallen. Leya glanced up. They were lying directly beneath the vent.

The person turned around, and she realized that it was Joey. She put the knife away.

"Joey?" she asked with surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I followed you," Joey replied, shrugging. I saw that you were here on the TV, and I figured you used the grate to get out. It was a tight fit, Jesus."

"You could have just gone through the center," Leya said pointedly.

"I know that," Joey replied, rolling his eyes. "But I figured that there was a reason you used the grate."

"Yeah, there was," Leya said, typing in something and then making a face, trying something else.

"You gonna tell me?" Joey asked impatiently.

"Jackson was stuck in here. Riley was dirty, and I had to find a way to take Riley out of the picture without just running in here with my guns blazing."

"Riley's dirty?" Joey asked with surprise.

"Was," Leya remarked. "He's in that closet over there. Jackson killed him."

"Oh," Joey said, much less surprised at _that _news. "Is _he_ the one who's been doing all this stuff?"

"No, he's just their lapdog," Leya said in a tone that showed that she had no respect for what Riley had done. "There's someone else involved in this. Someone bigger. Someone more important. We just can't figure out who it is, yet."

"So what are you doing here?" Joey asked, slowly beginning to understand what was going on.

"I'm trying to gain access to Sal's records. I'm trying to figure out who's been let in here in the past half hour or so. But he changed his passwords. I have to start from the beginning again."

"Need help?" Joey asked.

"There's not really anything you can do," Leya said reluctantly. "Except, I'd feel a little better if I didn't have to keep looking over my shoulder to make sure someone wasn't sneaking up on me. You think you can stand guard?"

"Sure thing," Joey said, walking to the door. "If you need anything else, just call."

"Will do," Leya said.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Harrison put his hand to his head and tried to think.

"What did he mean, you can't trust everyone that you think you can?" Jessie asked fearfully. "And he said something about Vincent. Does that mean that Vincent had something to do with this?"

"I don't know," Harrison replied, shaking his head. "I can't believe that he would. I just can't believe it."

"It could be anyone," Jessie said quietly. She had since stopped crying and had pulled herself together enough to try and help Harrison figure out exactly what was going on. Neither of them had been able to make sense of what was going on.

"We didn't even get to check out the entire place," Harrison retorted quickly. "They're probably holding him somewhere in here."

Jessie fell silent after that. Harrison knew that she could very well be right, and Vincent really could be behind everything, but he didn't want to accept that. He knew that there had to be another solution.

"Well, who do you think it could be?" Jessie asked. "Who would have a motive to want to do this?"

"That's the problem," Harrison said painfully. "_No one_ would have the motive to want to do this. No one would have a reason to. Everyone's equal in the complex. Everyone is given basically the same rights. And Vincent would have even less of a reason to want to do something, because he's the leader, so to speak. So I don't know what possible motives he would have. Whoever would want to take over would have to be…" he trailed off, shrugging.

"Crazy?" Jessie asked pointedly.

"Crazy," Harrison affirmed. They sat in silence for a few moments. Harrison suddenly felt bad. "I'm sorry I had to get you mixed up in this."

"You didn't get me mixed up in anything," Jessie said quickly, shaking her head. "I don't want you to think that. I got myself mixed up in this. I knew you were someone I could trust from the beginning, and I knew that I wanted to get to know you, even though I had barely just met you. I've been waiting my entire life for something this exciting to come my way."  
"I wouldn't call this exciting," Harrison muttered. "This isn't the kind of thing you should be wanting to do."

"Well, maybe not this, specifically," Jessie muttered, suddenly growing more serious. "But this, in general. What you guys live like. I want to be a part of it more than I've ever wanted to be a part of anything. I have nothing left to go back to. I'm a waitress living in a shitty apartment. I can't afford my rent anymore, especially since my mother's dead now and will probably be leaving everything to my sister anyways. There was nothing for me until you came along. Nothing."

Harrison looked at Jessie with sadness.

"But none of this would have happened if…"

"Harrison, it's happened to me before."

She looked at the ground quietly, sighing.

"What?" Harrison asked with surprise.

"I've been…you know…violated before. About a year ago."

"Oh," Harrison said lamely, not knowing what else to say. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Jessie said. "At least, now it is. I was able to put it behind me. But what happened to me today was nothing compared to that."

"You were hysterical when you came back in," Harrison reminded her.

"I still am," Jessie admitted. "It's not a pleasant thing for someone to do to you. It never is."

Harrison looked down at the ground again and shook his head violently.

"We need to get the fuck out of here before they come back," he said. Jessie nodded.

"We do," she agreed solemnly. "But how are we going to do that?"

"I don't know yet," Harrison admitted. He got to his feet shakily, his head still pounding. He walked slowly over to the door and put his ear to it. He listened for a few seconds, barely even breathing. There was no sound from behind the door. Not even a rustle of breathing.

"Anything?" Jessie whispered.

"Nothing," Harrison replied. He listened for a few more moments before he decided that there was no one standing outside. Then, he began to examine what was in the room. After a few minutes of rummaging through boxes, he found a screwdriver.

"Are you serious?" Jessie asked incredulously.

"I don't think they had much time to think about what room they were putting us in," Harrison said, shaking his head. "They probably rushed here to surprise us and just threw me in the first room they could find. Fortunately for us, this was it."

He started working on the hinges. Jessie meanwhile went around the room to try and find something that they could use as weapons if the need arose. In the boxes, there were yards of bubble wrap, pencils, coffee mugs, and even an entire box filled with different colored crepe paper, but there wasn't any kind of knife or gun in sight. Jessie supposed that it would have been too much to hope that they had been _that _stupid.

"Anything?" Harrison asked.

"Nothing," Jessie replied. "Unless we want to decorate them to death."

Harrison didn't bother to ask what that might mean. He had freed the door from its hinges. The door was just wide enough so that if he pulled the unhinged side back as hard as he could, there was enough room for Jessie to squeeze through.

"Unlock the door," he panted to her as she managed to get her way through the door. She nodded and hurried to do just that. The door didn't even have a key. It was a chain lock, and they had shoved a crow bar under the door handle so they couldn't turn it. Harrison grabbed it, and Jessie took the screwdriver, and together they started off down the hallway.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Jackson left Jacqueline and Lisa at the exit, which let them out a good distance from the complex, and then hurried off to another secret entrance. Jacqueline and Lisa walked off in the other direction until they were certain that Jackson couldn't see them. Then, Lisa led Jacqueline back to where Jackson and Lisa had entered the complex several months before during the massacre.

"Jackson and Vincent wouldn't close off this entrance," Lisa said firmly. "Nostalgia, I suppose. It leads to over Jimmy's room, and then from there you can get anywhere."

"Good," Jacqueline said with relief. "That's exactly what we need."

They made their way into the passage, and Jacqueline closed it firmly behind her.

"We can get ahold of Leya using my cell phone," Lisa proclaimed. "We can tell her who we see in Jackson's room. I just hope they'll still be there."

"They will be," Jacqueline said with certainty.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

When Jackson left Jacqueline and Lisa, he hurried back towards the complex, debating which passage to take. There were several that would allow him easy access to the center, and there were several more that would take him to other remote locations. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Leya's number, crouching behind a rock and watching the building. Nothing appeared to be in the building; it looked as deserted and dusty as ever.

"Jackson," Leya said in greeting. "What's up?"

"I need to know if you have anything yet," Jackson said urgently. "It's very, very important."

"I'm almost done decrypting this file," Lisa replied. "I got his password, and I managed to get his records, but they're encrypted now."

"Since when?" Jackson asked.

"This morning, apparently," Leya replied, shrugging. "A memo in his inbox says that Vincent ordered it."

Jackson stared at the complex for a few moments, shaking his head as soon as the notion occurred to him. But then it came back, a creeping suspicion that maybe Vincent had something to do with it, after all.

"Why would he do that?" he asked Leya.

"I don't know," Leya replied, sounding embarrassed that she didn't know the answer to that. "Maybe he didn't want the mole, whoever that might be, knowing who was coming in and out? Though I'm not really sure why that would matter. Maybe it was just another safety precaution or something…but still, that doesn't make much sense. Why would it matter if anyone knew who was going in and out?"

"I don't know," Jackson replied, looking puzzled. "Check Vincent's e-mail. See if he's received anything in the past few days that has to do with that. Maybe he wasn't the one who thought of the encryption idea."

"You're thinking Harrison, aren't you?" Leya asked.

"He's the only one I can think of," Jackson replied painfully. "He wasn't with us that long. It could be him."

"Yeah, it could be anyone," Leya said, shaking her head. "Don't rule Vincent out. I know he's your best friend, but don't rule him out without even giving him consideration."

"Unfortunately, I'm giving him far too much consideration," Jackson said with a heavy sigh. "Call me if you find anything different."

"Will do," Leya said, and then there was a click as she hung up the phone.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Leya slid the phone back onto the cradle and leaned back in her seat, sighing heavily. She watched the record decrypt before her eyes, and she gasped when she saw one of the names on the list.

"Oh shit," she muttered, looking over the rest of the list quickly to make sure that there weren't any other names that caught her eye. She recognized a few names, of course, but only one of them had influence and power.

"Leya!" Joey panted as he ran into the room. "Someone's coming. Come on, we have to hide."

"What?" Leya asked with surprise and fear, reacting quickly and pressing the 'print' button.

"Someone's coming. I heard them coming down the hallway. They were talking about checking on the prisoners."

"Oh, _fuck_!" Leya yelled. She grabbed the sheet of paper that emerged from the printer and then unplugged the computer, erasing any work she had accomplished. But it didn't matter. She had the paper in her hands and that was all she needed to show Jackson to make her believe him. "We need to get to a phone as soon as possible."

"Okay, come on," Joey said, grabbing her hand and pulling her along after him impatiently. Leya followed him as quickly as she could, though she was quickly tired and sore. She didn't say anything to Joey because she thought that he may have actually forgotten that she was ever hurt. She hoped he did.

They ran down to the end of the prison hallway just as heavy footsteps began to echo down the stairway. They ducked down the second hallway and continued running towards the stairwell which would lead them to the shooting range.

"Riley?" called a haunting, frightening voice which neither of them recognized yet both of them knew. Leya felt a sick feeling boiling in the pit of her stomach, and her legs turned to jelly. Yet, somehow she kept them moving even though she wanted nothing more than to fall down to the ground. "Oh, Riley?"

They made it to the stairs, and they didn't bother to slow down. Their feet echoed too loudly on the metal stairs. Leya slipped, and she crashed down to her knees, hitting her head on the side of the railing. Joey, not missing a beat, grabbed her and hauled her up to her feet, dragging her along with him.

Leya swayed dizzily, but somehow they made it to the bottom of the stairs, and Joey began to drag them through the maze of practice ranges.

"Come on, come on," he chanted, holding on to Leya as if his very life depended on it. The other staircase seemed like it was miles away, but he knew they could reach it in moments. Then, he heard people coming after them on the staircase they had just traveled. "Oh shit, shit, shit," he muttered angrily. They made it to the staircase, and by this time Leya had regained enough consciousness to hurry up it herself. Despite her injuries from the car accident and everything else she had sustained that day, she was up the stairs in record time, and then they were out in the center, breathing heavily together and clutching one another.

"Oh my God," Leya said shakily, and then they walked quickly through the center and towards Joey's room, which was closest.

They were soon lost in the crowd of people, and Leya allowed herself to slow down a little. It was only when she slowed down when she realized how dizzy she was. She swayed on her feet and started to shake with fatigue.

"We're almost there," Joey said soothingly, putting a hand on her back. They made it to his door, and he hurried to unlock it. Once they got in, he locked it again and then walked Leya over to his bed.

"We need to call Jackson," Leya said tiredly. "Give me the phone."

She took the phone that Joey offered, and then she dialed Jackson's number, wondering how the hell she was supposed to tell him.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Harrison and Jessie managed to find themselves back in the big room in the center where they had been attacked. There was no one there. Harrison began searching through the boxes on the ground, looking frenzied and wild. Jessie just stood there with her screwdriver, looking around and making sure that no one was trying to sneak up on them.

"What exactly are you looking for?" she asked Harrison gently.

"I need to find a weapon," Harrison said. "If anyone finds us, a fucking crow bar isn't going to do much good."

"I don't suppose so, no," Jessie admitted. She started poking through a box nearby. Suddenly, they heard a car door slam outside. Harrison jumped up and grabbed Jessie's hand in barely a moment, and he pulled her down a separate hallway than the one they had been trapped down. They reached the very end, and then he hurried them into a room. There were shards of glass all over the floor, along with a pool of red, drying blood. Jessie put her hands to her mouth, looking sickened. Harrison grabbed Jessie's hand and pulled her out into the hallway again. They turned down another hallway, and finally spotted one the life-giving exit signs glowing down the hallway.

"Come on!" he urged, though Jessie needed no urging. She was just as eager to get out as he was. They heard someone yelling down the hall, but they didn't stop. They kept running until they were at the door, and then they pushed it open and ran across the side parking lot and into the trees.

Even then, when they were safe, they didn't stop running. They kept going. They kept going even when they were sure that there wasn't an ounce of breath left between them. They ran through the trees, out into the peaceful suburban streets, and then back into the city once again. They didn't speak a word while they were running, because they didn't have to. They knew what they had to do. They knew they had to get back to the complex to warn everyone, and they knew what the consequences could be. And they would run back to the complex if it killed them.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Jacqueline and Lisa crouched on the ledge that began Jimmy's ceiling.

"We should be right over the computer desk," Lisa whispered, thinking back. Jacqueline nodded and put her hands on the tile in front of them. They could hear voices below them, and they both knew that any noise could alert the people to their presences.

Jacqueline slowly eased the tile up a crack, peering down into the room.

"Oh my God," she gasped, putting her hand to her mouth.

"What?" Lisa asked. Suddenly, Jacqueline's foot slipped, and she fell forward into the tile. For a moment, it held under her weight, but then it snapped, and she fell down into the room.

Lisa reached out to grab her against her better judgment, and managed to grab hold of her arm. She wasn't prepared for Jacqueline's weight, though, and her foot slipped, and she fell forward along with Jacqueline.

Jacqueline landed on her back on the desk, thudding painfully, but Lisa crashed into someone who was standing in the center of the room. Their elbow slammed into her stomach when they raised their arms to protect themselves, and she made a noise of pain before they both tumbled to the floor.

Jacqueline was the first to get to her feet, surprising considering she had just been slammed into a desk. She ran over to Lisa and hauled her to her feet, off of the man on the floor. Lisa looked down to see who it was and gasped.

"You?" she asked, her hand flying to her mouth.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Jackson was slowly making his way towards the complex building when his cell phone started to vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out quickly and held it to his ear.

"Hello?" he asked with trepidation growing in him.

"It's Leya," Leya gasped into the phone. She sounded horrible.

"What happened?" Jackson asked fearfully.

"Someone came after us," Leya said. "But not before I got to the records."

"What did they say?" Jackson asked.

"There were a few people that came in that were suspicious," Leya said. "But there was one that stood out. It's him. I know it is."

"Who?" Jackson asked, clutching the phone in a white-knuckled grip.

The phone went dead.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Leya stared at the phone in her hands with shock.

"What the fuck?" she asked angrily.

"What?" Joey asked.

"The phone just went dead," Leya replied, slamming the phone on the bedside table as if that would do anything. When it didn't, she slammed it back into the cradle. "What the fuck is going on in here?"

"I don't know," Joey said, sounding afraid. "But it's bad."

"No shit," Leya muttered with annoyance. She crumpled the piece of paper in her hand angrily. "What the fuck are we supposed to do?"

"Anything," Joey said with sudden desperation. "We have to do something to stop him."

"I know we do," Leya said. She bounced her knee up and down like she always did when she was thinking. "Doesn't Lisa have a cell phone?"

Joey nodded. They looked at each other and then started for the door.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Lisa and Jacqueline stood and stared at the man in front of them.

"No," Lisa said, shaking her head. "No, no, no, you can't be…no…how could you?"

"Oh, shut up," He said with annoyance. "Good work Jacqueline."

Jacqueline smiled and nodded. Lisa backed away from her with shock.

"What?" she asked, betrayal clear in her voice. "I knew it!"

"Good deduction," Jacqueline said, her voice low and dangerous. "Too bad Jackson didn't see through it. I'll admit; I was surprised when he trusted me. But, all the better, right?"

He nodded and laughed. Lisa backed away quickly, her eyes roaming the room for a way out.

"Don't even bother looking," He said. "My guards are at the door."

Lisa backed up further, not willing to admit defeat. She was backing towards Jackson's room. Neither of them had noticed.

"Oh, sweetie," Jacqueline said in a teasing voice. "Are you thinking of going down that hatch? Too bad he already changed the codes."

"How could you?" Lisa asked Him, tears flying from the corners of her eyes. "I trusted you! We all trusted you!"

"Big mistake," He replied, shrugging.

"What about the Andropov incident?" Lisa asked. "Huh? What was that? You can't tell me that was all leading to this!"

"No, that was before," He admitted. "But Jimmy was the last thing holding me from doing this. Now he's gone, and there's nothing stopping me." He grinned. "He knew about my illness, Jimmy did, but he still accepted me, and he still befriended me. I owe him my life, for that."

"I don't fucking _care_!" Lisa screamed, rage filling her and exploding out all at once. "What about Jackson?"

He smiled.

"What about him?"

"He's…"

"Oh, yes, he's a wonderful man," He said sarcastically. "And I love him with all of my heart. But he's the last thing I have to get rid of in order to rid my life of that devil woman. She ruined my life, Lisa. She ruined me."

Lisa stared at Him, speechless.

Brian Greene smiled back.


	15. Fearing You, Loving You

OH snap, sorry this is so late. I didn't even realize what day it was. I've been so busy lately with different writing projects (I discovered live journal communities about band member slash. Damn it.) AND it's almost back to school so I've finally been writing my AP Psychology paper which I've been avoiding up until now. Whooops. Anyway, so here's the chapter.

Things are going to start getting shocking. Maybe not yet, but some pretty messed up shit happens a chapter later. And then the chapter after that, more shock! Yesyes! I'm pretty far ahead. Scoreee.

Thank you everyone who reviewed. Hehe, I love shocking ya'll.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

**Chapter 15: **Fearing You, Loving You

Long lost words whisper slowly to me  
Still can't find what keeps me here  
When all this time I've been so hollow inside  
I know you're still there

Watching me, wanting me  
I can feel you pull me down  
Fearing you loving you  
I won't let you pull me down

Hunting you I can smell you - alive  
Your heart pounding in my head

Watching me, wanting me  
I can feel you pull me down  
Saving me, raping me, watching me

Watching me, wanting me  
I can feel you pull me down  
**Fearing you, loving you  
**I won't let you pull me down

Evanescence  
Haunted

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Harrison and Jessie hid behind a wall for a good ten to twenty minutes, panting for air and finding it hard to get any. They were in the middle of a parking lot, in front of a popular grocery store, and everyone who passed gave them odd looks before going on their way and not bothering to stop and inquire about what was going on. After a while, Harrison shakily got to his feet.

"We need to get back to the complex," he muttered under his breath, running his hand through his hair. "We need to tell them about Vincent."

"What if it's already happening?" Jessie asked, not pointing out that it was clearly very obvious that they needed to tell everyone about Vincent. "What if he's already there?"

Harrison was silent for a few moments, looking down at the ground thoughtfully.

"It makes no sense," he said bitterly. "Him as the guy running all this. Absolutely no sense whatsoever. What could possibly drive him?"

"Sometimes, people just snap," Jessie said, looking down at the ground sadly. "Sometimes, there's no rhyme or reason to it. It just happens. There's nothing you can do but hope for the best."

"What, like maybe he'll realize he's killing off his best friends one by one? That's another thing. Why the fuck would he let that guy kill Scarlett? He loves that woman. Loved."

Jessie was silent for a moment, thinking that over.

"Maybe they were lying to us," she said slowly.

"God, I hope so," Harrison sighed, and they sat in silence.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Vincent opened his eyes a crack, looking at the interesting design on the ceiling. He had been studying it for the past twenty minutes or so. He didn't know what was keeping Harrison, but he hoped the other man wouldn't be too much longer. He felt like he was going crazy, stuck in that room. The globes had long since failed to capture his interest, and he was reduced to staring at that design. He didn't know if it was paint, rust, or blood, but it very well could have been either.

He had shouted for Brian, but he hadn't heard any reply except a squeak from a rat outside the door. There was no one else in the building; he knew that for sure. He had always had an intuition for that kind of thing.

He got up and paced the room a few times, scenarios racing through his brains. He had thought, for about an hour or so, that he would just be better off killing himself and getting it over with. But the more he thought about it, the more he knew he just couldn't do that. He was young yet. He still had a life to live. He had to find a way to get out and help his friends overcome what they were currently trying to overcome.

He just didn't know how to do that.

His mind weighed the options like a machine. There were a number of things that he could do. He wondered who was really behind the whole thing and what exactly their aim was.

He looked up at the pattern on the ceiling again, and then he froze. Suddenly, it came to him.

"Shit," he muttered.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Leya and Joey hurried across the center without anyone seeing them, and then they dashed down the hallway to where Lisa's room was. There was a man standing outside the door. They stared at him.

"Excuse me," Leya said in her most polite voice. "Can I help you?"

"Only if you're Lisa Reisert," the man said.

"No, I'm not," Leya said innocently. "But I came here to find her too. What do you need her for?"

"Business," the man said simply. He was beginning to look and sound bored with her. Leya glanced at Joey, who shrugged. He didn't know what was going on any more then Leya did.

"Oh," Leya said. "Well, if you'll excuse me for a moment, I need to get into Lisa's room."

Leya had somehow obtained a spare key to Lisa's room. She never told Joey, but she had a spare key to just about every room in the complex. Jackson and Vincent might have liked to think that their security was top notch, but they didn't count on Leya being as thorough as she was.

"Why?" the man asked, moving to bar Leya's way.

"Business," Leya replied cheekily. Joey glanced at her warningly in a way that suggested that she might want to be careful about what she said to him. She just shrugged and looked up at the man expectantly.

"I don't think I can allow you to do that," the man said.

"Why not?" Leya asked with childlike innocence. "This isn't your room. And I know for a fact that you're not a friend of Lisa. All I need is to go into that room and retrieve my purse, because I left it there last night. I don't see why it's any of your concern, and I certainly don't see why it's any of your business what I do in my friend's room."

She glared at the man, and he stepped aside reluctantly. Behind her, Leya heard Joey let out a sigh of relief. Leya stuck the spare key into the hole and opened the door, ushering Joey in behind her. Then, she closed the door and locked it, turning on the light and looking around quickly. Everything looked to be in order.

There was a slight rattling as the man tried to open the door. Leya glanced at Joey. The situation had suddenly gotten scary.

"Turn on the radio," Leya said in a normal tone to Joey. "I love that new mix CD that Lisa has. I'm sure she won't mind if we watch TV or something."

Joey turned on the radio and turned the volume up high. He and Leya then quickly grabbed Lisa's purse. Her cell phone was inside. They grabbed it and shoved the purse back on the desk. Then, they pushed the heavy dresser to the side, and Leya worked on getting the grate off. The doorknob rattled more fiercely. They could hear the man yelling, but they could not make out the words over the loudness of the radio.

"Shit, what the fuck does that asshole want?" Joey asked, his voice holding some panic.

"He obviously works for Brian," Leya muttered.

"We don't even know if Brian's the one behind all this," Joey pointed out. "It could be anyone."

"It's Brian," Leya said with certainty. "Everything leading to this has just completely hinted at him, and I just didn't see it. Who else would know about the whole mask thing? Who else would know about Jimmy's past enough?" Leya grabbed the grate and pried it off.

"But what would his motive be?" Joey asked pointedly. "What could he possibly want? The complex?"

"Maybe," Leya said, shrugging. "Sometimes, people don't need motives."

Joey thought that over for a few moments, then shook his head.

"I don't know," he said. There was a thud from over by the door.

"Trust me on this," Leya said calmly. "Now, Joey, he's kicking the door. We need to move. Thank God you're skinnier than fuck. Follow me."

Leya started crawling quickly down the tunnel, and she heard Joey following her. She heard the dresser sliding back across the floor, and the thudding and yelling form the other side of the door was muffled and forgotten as they started their long trek through the tunnel.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Jacqueline roughly pushed Lisa into the chair that she had first sat in upon her arrival to the complex three months before. Lisa thought it was slightly ironic, but she didn't have the time to really go over the details. Brian sat down in Jackson's seat, and he put his feet up on the desk, smiling his same old genial smile. The smile hadn't changed, but it was strange what just _knowing _a person was bad could do to people.

"What are you doing?" Lisa asked, shaking Jacqueline off violently. Jacqueline walked into Jackson's bedroom and closed the door. Lisa didn't have time to wonder exactly what she was doing. Brian leaned forward and smiled at her menacingly.

"What am I doing?" Brian asked. "I'm getting rid of this hell hole of a fucking disaster. _That's_ what I'm doing. I should have done it the second that Jimmy died. I knew this place was going to turn right back into the wasteland that it was when Jimmy's old man ran the place."

Lisa didn't feel like arguing, but she knew that it was apparent that the place had changed a great deal since Jimmy's death. And as much respect as Lisa had for Jimmy in the short time that she knew him, it had been a hell of a lot worse when he ran it. Vincent had turned it into something that Jimmy had only been able to imagine in his wildest dreams. It was clear that Brian Greene wasn't exactly sane.

"It looks all right to me," she said confidently, knowing very well that if Jackson were there, he would be shooting her glares. She never had as much tact or patience as he did, and she didn't think she'd ever develop it.

"I don't blame you for being loyal," Brian said with genuine sympathy. "They saved your life. And they're your _friends_. I understand that. But surely you know that what they're doing is _wrong_. Surely you know that this can't be _right_."

Lisa looked down at the ground for a moment. She knew that what everyone at the complex did was very wrong, but she also knew that she had grown to accept it enough that she would be able to defend it.

"They only kill the bad," she said robotically. "They only kill those who deserve to be killed. You know that. You knew that all along."

"Yes, I knew that when Jimmy was running the place," Brian said. "A good man, Jimmy. A very good man with a very good idea. But Vincent and that bastard son of mine have gone and turned this into a hell hole just like that fucking Organization they all worked so fucking hard to tear down. A bunch of hypocrites. That's what they are. They've started killing innocent men and women and children, just for the sake of a few thousand dollars. They've kept it all from you, of course, and from most of the other assassins. Why do you think the security's been improved so much? Why do you think everyone tiptoes around you like you're about to break at any moment? They've turned this into a place even worse than the Organization. And they did it right under your pretty little nose."

"You're lying," Lisa said, shaking her head vehemently. "You're doing this because you're a sick, selfish bastard."

"Sick, yes," Brian said. "Selfish, maybe. I don't know, Leese. I think I deserve to be selfish after what that whore did to me. Do you even know what she did to me, Leese? Do you even know how she treated me? She told me she loved me. She told me that she wanted to stay in my arms forever."

Brian's voice was getting louder and louder, and Lisa began to cry despite her resolve. Brian stood up and leaned across the desks, his arms clenching the edge of the table in a vice-like grip.

"Stop it," Lisa whispered, tears of fear filling her eyes. She hated being so weak, but the insane glint in Brian's eyes scared her more than anything.

"She told me that she hated that bastard," Brian shouted. "That David fucking Rippner. Her fucking abusive husband who beat _my _child! My child, Lisa! He hurt my little boy. My little Jackie. And I couldn't do a goddamned thing about it, because she would never, ever leave him. She couldn't. She was still in love with him. And me? I was her plaything. Her little toy to be used whenever she wished it. Was I okay with that? No. Did I have a fucking choice? _No_! I loved her, Leese. Oh boy, did I love her. She was beautiful, like you, and she was perfect, like you. She had the heart of an angel. I know you have the heart of an angel, Leese. I know you're just like her. But would you ever do that? Would you ever hurt me like she did? Will you hurt Jackie like she hurt me?"

"I wouldn't," Lisa sobbed. "Please, Brian."

"I don't think you would," Brian said, calming down. He lowered himself back into his seat as if nothing had happened and regarded her calmly. She drew herself together slowly, her lower lip quivering. She held it together, though, and she shook her head to rid herself of the tears. Brian was looking at her strangely. "You love Jackson, don't you?"

Lisa stared at him for a few minutes, trying to gather herself together enough to answer the question.

"Brian, I…"

"Don't you?" he screamed, jumping up.

"Yes!" Lisa screamed, her hands flying up to protect herself. "I love him!"

"Why?" Brian asked, back to completely calm. Lisa couldn't hold herself together this time. She was in hysterics. Her entire body shook with ragged sobs. "_Why_?" Brian shouted again. Lisa just cried harder. "Lisa, my patience is really starting to wear thin."

"I don't know," Lisa gasped out. "I don't know."

"Bullshit," Brian growled at her. "Well, Leese, I really think you do love him. And you know what? I think he loves you too. Now, I think that leave room for a very interesting turn of events. Don't you? Who would he choose to save? You, or me?"

Brian smiled.

Lisa cried for help.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Jackson's cell phone vibrated as he was sneaking up behind the building. He stopped and answered it quickly.

"Hello?" he asked nervously. "Leya?"

"Jackson, it's Brian," replied the voice of his father. He sounded panty and nervous. "I'm with Lisa. We need help."

Jackson thought he could hear Lisa trying to say something in the background, but she was quickly cut off. He didn't think anything of it.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"We're stuck in your room," he said. "Jacqueline and Lisa snuck back in, and I was in here, looking for you. They said that they used an old passage. One that you showed Lisa three months ago. But Jacqueline turned on us. She's dirty, Jackson. She locked us in here, and there are guards outside. I'm not sure what they're planning on doing to us, Jackson."

"I'll be there in a few minutes," Jackson said. He hung up before Brian could say another word, and then he ran swiftly in the direction of the passage.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Vincent stared at the blood/brains/rust on the ceiling. It was a symbol. Someone had painted a symbol. He was surprised that he hadn't noticed it before. It struck a chord somewhere in the back of his mind. He couldn't think of it for a few moments, and then suddenly he remembered.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

_Vincent rolled out of bed and heard someone humming in the next room. He smiled and walked in. Scarlett was painting a picture on the canvas she always kept beside her desk. She had painted many pictures in the months they had been together. He remembered her saying at one point that she only painted when she was happy. _

_"What're you painting?" he asked._

_"A landscape," Scarlett replied, humming happily. "See that shape in the cloud? I slipped that in there. It's the Chinese symbol for trust." She smiled at him. "I trust you."_

_Vincent smiled at her sadly. It meant more to him than anything else had in a long while that she was able to say that, after all that he had done._

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Vincent stared at the symbol for a few more moments before shaking himself out of it and looking around the room. There was literally nothing there but the box of globes. His eyes settled on the box. He crawled over to it and dumped out all the contents of the box. On the inside bottom, in blood, was drawn the symbol.

Vincent grabbed the nearest globe and crushed it under his foot. He lifted his foot and saw that there was crumbled plastic beneath. He shook his head and grabbed the next one. Nothing again.

It took ten globes before he noticed that there was one that had a handprint on it. It was a dried, dark red handprint. Vincent had stopped doubting that the red was blood. It seemed that he was right to assume that. The handprint was barely visible, but it was definitely there.

Vincent grabbed the globe and stepped on it with all his might. Lying amid the rubble was a key. Vincent picked it up with trembling fingers and ran to the door. The key fit perfectly in the keyhole, and he opened the door. A rat scurried out from beneath his feet and into the room. Vincent winced with disgust and continued walking. He didn't know where the hell he was, and he didn't know how to get out, but he did know that he had to get back to the complex. He had a feeling that something very bad was happening back there.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Brian picked up his walkie-talkie.

"Go ahead and open fire in twenty minutes if I don't get to you by then," he said.

"Got it," replied one of his henchmen. Brian handed the walkie-talkie to Jacqueline.

"I don't see why you had to tell him that I was dirty," she said bitterly.

"It's not going to matter what he thinks of you when this is all over," Brian said, rolling his eyes. "He'll either be dead, or everyone he loves will be, and he'll be wishing for death. I haven't decided yet."

Lisa struggled against the bonds that held her tied to the chair. She already had a black eye forming from where Brian had hit her, and a large cut on her forehead was bleeding down her face profusely. She tried to yell something, but the duct tape on her mouth prevented her from saying anything.

She hadn't gone down without a fight, though. Jacqueline and Brian both had numerous injuries. She had managed to stab a pencil into Jacqueline's arm, crack a few of Brian's ribs, and had given both of them a few bruises that they wouldn't soon lose. She would have gotten away if there had been anywhere to go, but in the end they simply overpowered her and had forced her into the chair.

"That was never part of the agreement," Jacqueline continued arguing. "You said that I'd be able to have him when you were done."

"Jacqueline, darling, don't fuck with me," Brian said darkly. "You don't _want _to fuck with me, I promise you. You're lucky I'm not killing you, the way you bitch and moan about every little thing that happens. Suck it up."

Jacqueline looked at Brian with the disgust that he deserved to get, and then she slapped a piece of duct tape over his mouth.

"I could kill you," she remarked, tying his hands to the chair. "You realize that, don't you?"

Brian nodded, and then gestured to the door. Jacqueline got the message: go ahead and try; they'll know.

"I didn't say I would," she said pointedly. Brian smiled.

Lisa continued crying. The tears mixed with the blood and ran down her face, plopping to the floor. The rug in front of her was stained and made her sick just looking at it. She had lost a lot of blood already.

"Don't worry, Leese," Jacqueline said comfortingly. "I'm sure he'll choose you. Not that it will do much good for either of you, but at least you'll know that he really does love you."

She laughed and walked to the door. She opened it and stuck her head out, calling in the three guards who stood outside. Two of them walked in, while the remaining one stood guard outside.

"What the fuck are you doing?" one of them asked, turning his gun on Jacqueline as soon as he saw Brian sitting there.

"We're testing Rippner," Jacqueline said with a smile. "See which one he chooses."

Brian winked. The two guards laughed.

"That's a good one," one of them said. His IQ couldn't have been much higher than 50. "Rippner doesn't know about Greene, right?"

"No," Jacqueline said. "And he should be coming now, so stop talking about it. We just have to wait. Come with me."

She walked into the bedroom, and the two men followed her. Lisa and Brian were left alone, sitting beside one another. Lisa glared at Brian and furiously worked at getting her hands free. Brian glared right back at her, and she could se the fear in his eyes. The fear that she might actually be able to get out. He started trying to pull his hands out as well. It became a desperate race to see who could finish first.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Leya and Joey crawled out of the vent in Leya's room. It had taken them far too long to get there, but Leya still prayed that there was time. She quickly dialed Jackson's cell phone number, and it began to ring.

"It's ringing!" she exclaimed, sighing with relief.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Jackson's cell phone vibrated in his pocket just as he was positioning himself over Brian and Lisa. He angrily picked it up and shut it off without even glancing at the caller ID. Then, he dropped down onto the desk below.

Lisa and Brian both looked up when he jumped down. Lisa was crying, and when she saw him, she tried to scream something. He ran to her first and wiped the blood off her face gently, reaching for the duct tape over her mouth. Suddenly, the door to his bedroom opened, and Jacqueline stood there, smiling at him.

"Hello, Jackson," she said. Two burly guards followed her out. Jackson stepped away from Lisa, as she continued to scream hysterically at him.

"I should have listened to everyone," he said, stalling for time. Jacqueline seemed to realize that.

"Perhaps," she said, shrugging. "But, you didn't. Now, you're going to have to make a choice."

The two guards advanced towards Lisa and Brian. Jackson pulled out his knife and made a move to attack one of them, but the other sent him spinning with a quick blow to the head. The guards situated themselves behind Lisa and Brian, holding knives to their throats. Lisa stopped squirming, but kept crying. Brian didn't move. He just looked at Jackson pleadingly.

"You're fucking sick," Jackson spat. Jacqueline looked remorseful for a moment, but then she looked at Brian and retained her hardened look.

"Maybe," she said slowly, as if the idea were just occurring to her. "I guess you can never really tell, huh? Now come on. Who will it be? Lisa, or your father."

Jackson stared at the two of them with pure pain written across his features. Never before had any of them seen him with so much raw emotion. He had always taken pains to hide it. But the agony of having to choose between two of the people he cared about most in the world was one thing that he wouldn't be able to hide.

Everyone knew who he was going to pick. There was no tense moment when people wondered who he was going to choose. Everyone knew that that privilege went to Lisa without question. Everyone knew that the only reason he was even pausing was because he was trying to figure out some way of saving them both.

"What happens when I choose?" Jackson asked painfully.

"Whoever you choose will be escorted safely away, and you will take their place. The other will die," Jacqueline said simply. Jackson looked painfully from one to the other. Finally, his eyes settled on Lisa, just as everyone knew they would.

"Lisa," he whispered, looking down at the ground.

"What's that?" Jacqueline asked, though it was apparent that she had heard him.

"I chose Lisa," Jackson said louder, raising his eyes to meet hers. She cried harder and tried to say something. Jackson glanced at Brian. "I'm sorry."

Suddenly, Brian's hands came up, and he pulled the duct tape off his mouth. The guard moved away from Lisa, and she pulled her hands free as well, ripping off the duct tape.

"Run!" she screamed. "Jackson, go!"

One of the guards grabbed her and slapped the duct tape back over her mouth, holding on to her so she wouldn't be able to go anywhere. Brian smiled at Jackson.

"So," he said conversationally. "Dear old dad takes a backseat. Expected, but that doesn't make it any less devastating. I have to say, you really _are _like your mother. She would have chosen anyone over me."

Jackson for once was completely left speechless. He took a step back away from his advancing father, his mouth working soundlessly. It was surprising to see Jackson completely unable to function; he had never been so surprised in his entire life. He had been prepared for absolutely _anyone_ being the mastermind behind everything, but Brian?

"You," he finally managed to spit out. "Why?"

"I've explained it to dear Lisa here," Brian said. "And you know something? She made a good point. I didn't do this for Jimmy, or for the complex, or for the innocent people…oh, by the way, Leese. All that about Vincent and Jackson killing innocent people? Complete lies. Anyway, where was I? Ah, right. I believe she called me a selfish bastard. And it's true, completely. I am a selfish bastard. I did this for me. Because your whore of a mother did this to me."

"My mother was not a whore," Jackson growled under his breath.

"She wasn't?" Brian asked, his teeth clenching together. "Son, I was not the only man your mother slept with. At her funeral, there were more young men looking around with confusion than there were family members. A few of them came up to me afterwards, said that I was her _favorite_. I was never so ashamed in my life. Your mother treated me like a common _hooker_, Jackson. A fucking prostitute."

"You bastard," Jackson growled, because there was nothing else to say. How was he supposed to argue with that? He knew that Brian was probably telling the truth, but he didn't want to believe it. The image of his mother as a sainted woman was slowly slipping away from him bit by bit. She was just a woman. And not only that, but she was an overly sexually active woman as well.

"As much as I'd like to see you bleed right now," Brian said thoughtfully. "I have some other business to attend to. Jacqueline, follow me. You two, stand guard outside. Make sure they don't escape."

Brian grabbed Jackson by the arm, forcing him to drop the knife. Then, he nodded to one of the guards. The guard grabbed Jackson by the collar and dragged him over to the bedroom door. Then, he all but threw Jackson in. The other guard did the same to Lisa. Brian stood in the doorway and smiled.

"Be good," he said simply, and then he walked out and closed and locked the door behind him.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Leya and Joey sat on Leya's bed together, their heads in their hands and their eyes closed. Each of them was thinking hard about what they should do, but neither could come up with a solution.

"Goddammit," Leya swore, shaking her head angrily. "I can't fucking think of _anything_."

"Neither can I," Joey said mournfully. "Shit."

"What the hell are we supposed to do?" Leya asked, throwing her hands into the air. "We can't do anything. We're two overdramatic kids who no one will take seriously. You _know_ everyone will think we're just fucking around, or maybe just fucking retarded."

"I know," Joey said simply.

"And it's not as if we can go to the police or something. We have to figure this out on our own. Maybe if Vincent or someone was here, we would be able to do it, but they have control of the camera systems now, and they can put everything they want on those cameras, so they're no good to us now. We can't tell what's real and what's not. There's absolutely _nothing_ that will help us get out of this."

"We could just go out there and start warning people," Joey suggested, shrugging. "Go out into the center and tell everyone to get weapons."

"But any one of them could be with Brian!" Leya exclaimed. "Any one of them could be on the other side. We could be handing the weapons to the very people that we need to keep the weapons away from. No, we need something else. Something better."

She set her eyes on the grade, tapping her foot irritably. Then, she knew. Joey saw her eyes light up.

"You have an idea?" he asked.

"It'll do," Leya said. She hurried to her feet. "Come on."

She walked towards the grate.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

After a few moments of stunned silence, Jackson managed to pull himself together enough to hurry over to Lisa and pull the duct tape off her mouth. She was lying on the floor, sprawled out, and for a few terrifying moments, Jackson thought she was dead. Then, he saw the rise and fall of her chest, and he sighed with relief. He turned her over and winced at the sight of the blood on her face. He walked into the attached bathroom and grabbed a towel off the counter. He wet it and walked back over to Lisa, starting to carefully clean away the blood. After a few moments of that, he was able to find where the cut had originated. He went into the bathroom again and retrieved a bandage. When he came back out, Lisa was sitting up and looking around with a dazed expression. When she saw Jackson, she sighed with relief.

"I thought they had maybe taken you with them," she explained. "I don't know what happened. I must have just passed out or something. My head hurts."

She reached a hand up to feel at her head, but Jackson stopped her.

"You're bleeding," he said simply. Lisa remembered the puddle of blood at her feet, and she nodded

"Yeah," she said. "They hit me when they were trying to put me in the chair."

"What happened?" Jackson asked. "You have to tell me everything."

"There's not much to tell," Lisa said as Jackson continued cleaning the blood off her face. "Jacqueline and I managed to get back down here. We thought we'd spy on whoever was in your room and see what was going on. Only Jacqueline fell through the ceiling. I tried to grab her, but I fell too, and then we saw that it was Brian who was in the room. Then he said something to Jacqueline, and I realized that she was working with him, and her goal had been to get me to him. He started going on about how your mother ruined him. He was completely talking crazy. Then he came up with the idea to make you choose. He said by the end of the day, either you would be dead, or so many people close to you would be dead that you'd wish for death. He's completely out of his mind."

"Jimmy told me he was sick," Jackson mused. "I didn't really think anything of it, because I didn't really know Brian when Jimmy was still alive. I knew of him, and I knew that he was a strange man. Jimmy told him that a woman had done something to him. I guess that woman was my mother."

"I'm sorry," Lisa murmured.

"It seems that I have no luck with fathers," Jackson said, smirking humorlessly. He put the bandage on Lisa's head. "There. You're going to be fine."

"If we can get out of here," Lisa muttered. "Otherwise, neither of us is going to be fine."

"I'm assuming that Brian changed the code on the passage?" Jackson asked. Lisa nodded reluctantly. Jackson sighed.

"He may be insane, but he's smart," Lisa said sadly.

"I need to think," Jackson said simply.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Brian walked up to the guardhouse door and knocked on it. Sal opened the door with a friendly smile.

"Hi, Brian," he said. "Er…Sergeant Greene. What…?"

Brian silenced Sal with a bullet to the head. The man didn't have time to even look surprised. Brian stepped over the body and into the room. Jacqueline followed him and closed and locked the door. Brian pulled out his walkie-talkie.

"Men?" he called out. "Ready yourselves."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

In the center, twenty-four walkie-talkies went off at once.

"Men," the echoed. "Ready yourselves."

Those without walkie-talkies froze and stared at those who did have them. Some of the men with walkie-talkies looked nervous. Some looked angry. Some were sweating, and others looked ready.

"What the fuck?" someone asked.

"Today, we fight," echoed the twenty-four walkie-talkies all at once. "Fire at will."


	16. It Sure As Hell Ain't Normal

Oh boy, this chapter is, well….interesting.

I did a few things I'm not sure I should have

But, ultimately, I think it will work out.

Now, here's the real issue. There are only 2 chapters left in this story. And one is the 3 page epilogue. Now, I have a sequel planned out, and I'm probably going to write it, but I'd like to know if people would want it or not. And I've also started writing a prequel to everything called 'Paradise' which is about Jackson's life from the time Jimmy found him to the time Jackson was about to be assigned to Lisa's case. I just wanted to know if anyone was interested in that or not.

Anyway, I really should be going. My best friend is coming hooomee. Ironic considering who I based him on…

Anywho, enjoy

Love to the reviewers!

(And yes, I'm aware that this song is by Panic! At the Disco. I'm so sorry. It reminded me of Jackson)

**Chapter 16: **It Sure As Hell Ain't Normal

The IV and  
Your hospital bed  
This was no accident  
This was a theraputic chain of events

This is the scent of dead skin on a linoleum floor  
This is the scent of quarantine wings in a hospital  
it's not so pleasant. And it's not so conventional  
**It sure as hell ain't normal**, but we deal, we deal  
The anesthetic never set in and I'm wondering where  
The apathy and urgency is that I thought I phoned in  
it's not so pleasant. And it's not so conventional  
**It sure as hell ain't normal**, But we deal, we deal

sit back just sit back, just sit back and relax, just sit back just sit back, just sit back and relapse again

Can't take the kid from the fight, take the fight from the kid  
sit back relax  
sit back relapse again

Can't take the kid from the fight, take the fight from the kid  
just sit back  
just sit back

You're a regular decorated emergency  
You're a regular decorated emergency

This is the scent of dead skin on a linoleum floor  
This is the scent of quarantine wings in a hospital  
it's not so pleasant. And it's not so conventional  
**It sure as hell ain't normal**, but we deal, we deal  
The anesthetic never set in and I'm wondering where  
The apathy and urgency is that I thought I phoned in  
it's not so pleasant, and it's not so conventional  
**It sure as hell ain't normal**, But we deal, we deal

Can't take the kid from the fight, take the fight from the kid  
Sit back, relax  
Sit back, relapse again  
Can't take the kid from the fight, take the fight from the kid  
just sit back, just sit back

sit back sit back relax relax  
sit back sit back bapapadah  
you can't take the kid out of a fight

You're a regular decorated emergency  
the bruises and contusions will remind me what you did when you wake.  
you've earned a place atop the ICU's hall of fame.  
The camera caught you causing a commotion on the gurney again.  
You're a regular decorated emergency  
the bruises and contusions will remind me what you did when you wake.  
you've earned a place atop the ICU's hall of fame.  
The camera caught you causing a commotion on the gurney again.

Can't take the kid from the fight, take the fight from the kid  
sit back, relax  
Sit back, relapse again  
Can't take the kid from the fight, take the fight from the kid  
just sit back, just sit back  
sit back, sit back, relax, relapse, sit back, sit back, bah bah buh duh  
You can't take the kid out of the fight

The IV and  
Your hospital bed  
This wasn't no accident  
This was a theraputic chain of events

Camisado  
Panic! At the Disco

ooooooooooooooooo

Leya and Joey crawled swiftly through the dark grate.

"I hope you know where you're going," Joey said darkly.

"I do," Leya said simply.

"Would you mind telling me where that is?" he asked.

"Just keep going and be quiet," Leya replied. She didn't feel like explaining the plan. She knew that it was all riding on her. Joey was just coming along because she didn't want to leave him back there. It was probably the first time that had happened. Usually, she was the one along for the ride.

"Leya, what are you doing?" Joey hissed, at least having the presence of mind to keep his voice down.

"Hoping that Brian doesn't recognize the grate as the security hazard that it is," Leya muttered.

"What?" Joey asked.

"Nothing," Leya said. "I'm going to try to fucking do something about this. Something that probably can't be done, but I'm going to try anyway."

"Why?" Joey asked, putting his hand firmly on Leya's leg to stop her. "Let's just get over to Jackson's room and see what we can do from there. We don't even know if anything's going to happen now."

"Are you kidding?" Leya asked, annoyed that she couldn't turn around and talk to him. She just stared forward into the dark chute moodily. "You heard them chasing us. You heard them coming after us. They're doing something _right now_, and we need to stop it."

"I'm not letting you go any further until you tell me what the fuck we're going to try to do, here," Joey said. "I know you want to do this by yourself. I know I've fucked up a lot lately, and I know that you don't think I can handle whatever it is that you're doing now. But I promise, Leya. I fucking _promise_ that I'm going to try. And me trying is better than you just running in somewhere and trying to do something by yourself."

Leya barely even paused before answering.

"We're going to the control room," she said simply. "We're going to get rid of the blocks on the cameras. And we're going to send out the emergency signal. I don't know who's out and who's not, but whoever's out will be able to help us. We'll control the doors. We'll decide who gets in and who gets out. It's the next best thing to going out there and slaughtering all of them."

Joey was silent.

"What if they've already managed to take over the control room?" he asked after a while. Leya sighed heavily.

"I've got that covered," she said.

She pulled her foot and started moving again. This time, when she moved, Joey could hear something thick and solid scraping along the metal of the chute. He had a feeling that Leya had it very covered indeed.

ooooooooooooooooo

Jackson paced the room madly for the thousandth time, his hand pressed to his forehead tightly. Lisa sat beside the bed and watched him, trying to think of a solution on her own. But it didn't matter, she knew. There _was _no solution. Unless…

She looked up at the ceiling. But while in the other room there were tiles, this was just hard solid plaster. She sighed and looked back down at her hands. They were trembling lightly, and she clenched them together to try and stop it. But she could feel them trembling anyway. Jackson glanced at her. She looked back at him helplessly, her mind trying to think of something to say that would assuage his pacing.

She wanted nothing more than for him to sit beside her and pull her into his arms. He could think then, too, couldn't he? She knew he wouldn't, though. Jackson was very set in his ways. When he was thinking, he paced, and no one said anything to him. If they did, they were rewarded with a glare and a request for whoever had spoken to please shut up.

But this time, Jackson was a little less than predictable. He finally stopped pacing and looked at Lisa with trepidation.

"There's nothing," he said with disgusted finality. He sat down beside her and put his head in his hands. When he looked back up at her, she could see that his eyes were wide with panic and confusion. "Nothing."

Lisa knew that he was waiting for her to say something uplifting and comforting, but she knew that she couldn't do that. There was nothing to be uplifting or comforting about. She knew as well as he did that the situation they were in was hopeless. There was nothing that they could do.

Then she realized.

"Do you have your cell phone?"

Jackson froze for so long a moment that Lisa wasn't entirely sure that he hadn't just completely frozen into a solid block of marble. After everything that had happened that day, she wouldn't have been all that surprised if that had been the case. But then Jackson reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his cell phone held in a shaky hand.

"But what good will it do?" he asked. The phone lines are dead."

"What?" Lisa asked with surprise. "How do you know that?"

"Leya was on a phone call with me, and the line went dead. I imagine that Brian took any way of communication out of the way. Any way of communication that he could control, anyway. Cell phones can't be helped.

Lisa closed her eyes and thought for a moment. Now that she had opened one door, countless others had opened before her. She closed each of them firmly, rejecting them as undoable. Then, she reached another open door, and she couldn't find a good reason to close it.

"Who was the last person who called you?" he asked. "Call whoever called you."

Jackson flipped open his phone and saw that he had one missed call. He displayed the number, and saw that it said 'Lisa Cell'. He glanced at Lisa, and she looked back at him triumphantly.

"It could have been Brian," he said.

"Who cares?" Lisa asked. "Just call. What's he gonna do? Come in here and try to take the phone away? If he does, we'll be ready."

Jackson sighed. He didn't think it was going to work, but they had no other options. He pressed call, and held the phone to his ear.

ooooooooooooooooo

Harrison and Jesse finally decided that they'd be safe to hurry into the trees across the road. They did that, and then crouched behind a rock, waiting for someone to take notice. They waited a long while like that, but no menacing men materialized from inside the grocery store to get them. Harrison sighed and sat down on a nearby log.

"We need to get to a phone," he said. "One in a place where they're not going to find us. They took my cell phone."

"I had one in my car," Jessie suggested. Harrison looked at her, horrified. After a pause, the horror faded, and he nodded.

"I'm sure they won't be there anymore," he said hopefully. Then he shook his head vehemently. "No. We'll…"

He broke off as he spotted the store they had been sitting outside of for the past time. It was called O'Neil's. He recognized the name. Then he realized where they were.

"We'll what?" Jessie asked, intuitively recognizing that Harrison had a plan that just hadn't found its way to his mouth yet.

"I know where we are," he said suddenly. "Come on. This way."

He grabbed her hand and started running through the trees. He checked his position by glancing at the houses he was running past. He could see them only dimly through the blanket of trees that blocked his view, but he could see their colors well enough. White. Blue. White. Blue. White. Red. Gray. Beige. White. He stopped in the backyard of the final white house. He had never been in the back yard, but he knew it was the place. He could see Joe Reisert sitting at the kitchen table. As if Joe knew Harrison was coming, he glanced up and locked eyes with Harrison.

"Do you know him?" Jessie asked breathlessly. Harrison nodded slowly.

"Come on," he said again, and then he led Jessie towards the house.

ooooooooooooooooo

The cell phone in Leya's back pocket began to vibrate. She sighed heavily.

"Joey?" she asked. Joey grabbed it, ignoring the discomfort of the situation. He glanced at the ID and saw that it was Jackson who was calling.

"Jackson?" he asked urgently into the phone. "Where are you?"

"Joey? What the…I'm in my room," Jackson said, sounding confused and relieved. "I can't get out. What's going on out there?"

"Looks like soundproofing the room was a bad idea, huh?" Leya asked sarcastically, hearing Jackson's tinny voice on the other end.

"Shut up," Jackson said angrily, most of the venom in his voice because she was right, of course.

"We don't know either," Joey replied. "We're in the vent."

"The _what_?" Jackson asked incredulously.

"It was Leya's idea," Joey said. "We're trying to make it to the guardhouse to turn on the emergency signal. That way we can get everyone back here. Everyone who's away on missions and stuff."

There was a short pause.

"Get to the guardhouse," Jackson said then. "Get the code to the passage in my room. Room one. All right? Then call me back."

"Got it," Joey said. There was a pause.

"Why do you have Lisa's cell phone?" Jackson asked.

"Bye," Joey said, not wanting to explain. He tucked the phone back into Lisa's pocket, and then they began their journey once more.

"I wish this place wasn't so fucking soundproof," Leya growled. "I wish we could hear what was going on."

Joey nodded, though he had a feeling that it would be a hell of a lot worse if they _could _hear.

Leya stopped suddenly. They could hear voices dimly ahead. They appeared to be yelling at one another. Leya shot forward at a speed that Joey didn't think was possible. She crawled like a veteran of some kind of boot camp, barely making a noise as she slid smoothly across the metal surface. Joey watched her move with surprise in his gaze. He hadn't known she was capable of such grace. Then again, he figured there were a lot of things that he didn't know about her.

He followed her as best as he could, though he was sure that he made a good deal more noise than she did. He thought that the only thing that kept him from being heard was the fact that whoever was in the guardroom was screaming.

ooooooooooooooooo

"You're fucking insane!" Jacqueline screamed as the two burly guards grabbed her by the arms. "You told me…"

"Looks like you can never trust an insane man," Brian said, sounding surprised. "Surprising, right?"

He chuckled slightly and shook his head.

"After everything I did for you…"

"I think I should throw you in with our two little wolves in Jackie's room," Brian said, opening the door and ushering the two guards plus Jacqueline out. He left one guard behind. "It would be interesting to see what they would do with you."

As they entered the outside world, the sounds of chaos suddenly reached them. Gunshots, screaming, yelling, and even a few small explosions. It was another massacre. Only this time, it was civil war.

ooooooooooooooooo

Leya braced herself and then slowly took hold of the grate. She pushed it outward with both hands. It didn't make a sound. She thanked God for Sal's inherent cleanliness (which, for some reason, involved the constant oiling of anything metal in the room) and tried not to think of the fact that he was laying dead only a few feet away. She placed the grate on the ground and pulled the gun out of her pocket. It was Riley's gun. She hadn't told Joey that she had it because she knew that he would have wanted to hold it. She couldn't let him. He meant well, but he made more mistakes than she did, so she figured it was safer with her.

She pointed the gun directly at the back of the man who was watching the massacre outside on the video camera. For a few short seconds, her mind and her hand wavered as she started at the man. She imagined the blood spraying. She slowly eased herself out of the grate. She imagined his brains splattering all over the controls. She imagined wiping them out of the way as her fingers moved deftly over blood-stained letters of the shining white keyboard. She imagined the dull thump as his body hit the ground.

It scared her that it didn't bother her. Silently, she crept up behind him, put the gun to his head, and pulled the trigger.

He didn't know what hit him.

Joey jumped out of the vent, and quickly ran to the door and locked it. There was no way anyone was getting in the room without their consent, and the simple fact of the matter was that no one was going to get their consent. He was proud to have thought of it. When he turned to face Leya, he saw that she was staring at the body of the man with dull fascination. Then, she numbly wiped his blood and bits of gray mush that could only be brain off the keyboard. And then, she began to type.

ooooooooooooooooo

Brian left the two guards and Jacqueline, and he started towards the door to the guard room. He tried the doorknob and found it locked. He rolled his eyes.

"Stephen, open the door," he said in a sing-song voice. He waited for a few moments, and then realized that Stephen couldn't hear him in the soundproof room. He pounded on the door. He knew that Stephen would hear that. But no one came. He stared at the door, puzzled. He kicked it. He pounded on it some more. He screamed obscenities that would have made Vincent beam with pleasure. Still, the door didn't move. The two guards and Jacqueline stared at him. The guards looked confused. Jacqueline looked smug.

"Stay here," Brian said. He turned and walked down the hallway. The guards stayed there with Jacqueline. A long moment passed. And then the door slowly opened. The guards looked up with big smiles on their faces. They thought Stephen was pretty damn funny for playing that joke on Brian.

What happened next happened so suddenly that no one would remember exactly what happened afterwards.

Joey burst from the door and shot each guard in the head. He hadn't known he had that good of an aim until he had to use it. They fell down around Jacqueline, and she looked at him fearfully.

"Come on, quick," Joey said to her, running up to her. "We have to get to Jackson's room. He's in trouble."

Jacqueline was confused for only a second. Then, she smiled. He didn't know about her. No one had told him.

"Thank you," she said, her voice oozing gratitude. The door still stayed open. "I need to get in there…"

"No, we have to get to Jackson's room," Joey said, walking up to her and putting his hand on her arm. Jacqueline didn't waste a second. She grabbed his gun and pulled the trigger. He was dead before he knew she had raised her arm.

In the moments that followed next, Jacqueline had never been more afraid in her entire life. Joey's body hadn't even fallen to the ground when Jacqueline heard something coming at her. The animalistic scream of agony and rage that followed was something that chilled her bones and turned her blood to ice. Then, something hit her, and she fell to the ground on her stomach. Something was striking her back again and again and again. Whoever was on her back (_probably that Leya bitch_, she thought) grabbed Jacqueline's shoe off of her foot, and unnaturally strong hands flipped her over onto her back.

It was Leya who straddled Jacqueline, then. Her hair was wild around her face, and her eyes burned with pain and hatred.

"You fucking _bitch_!" she screamed and cried and sobbed. Jacqueline was afraid. Really afraid. She had never been so scared. Leya held the high-heeled shoe over Jacqueline's eye. "Bitch! Whore! Fucking slut!"

Jacqueline tried to push Leya off, but Leya just grabbed the pistol with the hand that wasn't holding the shoe, and she slammed Jacqueline in the side of the head with it. Stars blurred Jacqueline's vision. Lisa hit her again and again, until Jacqueline was almost fading into blessed unconsciousness. Suddenly, she was in Hell.

She had been hurt a few times before, but it was nothing compared to the pain she felt right then. First it was in her leg, then her lower abdomen, then her stomach. Piercing, punching pain. She focused her eyes enough to see that Leya was raising her arm and slamming the spike of the heeled shoe into her skin with every insult she screamed. Jacqueline tried to push Leya off her again, but she couldn't seem to move her limbs. She tried to speak, but nothing came out. She could only whimper at the pain. Leya stabbed her viciously again and again in the stomach.

"Scream!" Leya shouted viciously to Jacqueline, stabbing her again and again until the pain was no longer a part of Jacqueline, it _was _Jacqueline. Everything she lived was pain. She screamed. She screamed. Maybe if she screamed loud enough, Leya would stop. "You fucking bitch! You fucking bitch! Scream you fucking _bitch_!"

Leya stabbed her one final time, and then she dropped the shoe. Her revenge cries broke off into broken sobs of heart wrenching pain. Jacqueline felt herself drifting. The last thing she saw was Leya pushing herself back against the wall and pulling her knees up to her chest. Then, Leya cried.

Jacqueline felt a stab of regret. Suddenly, everything she had done was coming back to her. Every lover she had killed, every wife, every husband. But this was the only one that made her feel truly sorry. Maybe it was just the pain, but she was sorry.

"I'm sorry," she tried to whisper, but it was barely a gurgle. And then there was black.

ooooooooooooooooo

"Where's Lisa?" Joe asked as soon as Harrison and Jessie reached the back door. His hands were placed on either side of the doorjamb. He wasn't letting them in until he knew. Unfortunately, that was half of the problem for Harrison.

"I don't know," he said truthfully. "Me and Jessie were kidnapped. We need a safe place to use a phone."

"Where was she when you last _spoke_ to her," Joe asked patiently.

"She was in Jackson's room, by herself," Harrison said simply. "Please, Joe."

"All right," Joe said, letting them pass. He glanced out into the backyard, half expecting to see someone charging across the grass towards them. There was no one. He closed the sliding glass door, and then he drew the blinds.

ooooooooooooooooo

Jackson and Lisa sat in complete silence. They sat side-by-side, close but not close enough to actually be touching. Lisa was lost in her thoughts, and she barely even heard herself speak.

"Why'd you choose me?" she asked.

Jackson looked at her, surprised that she had spoken. Lisa looked back at him, just as astonished.

"It wasn't an easy choice," he said simply. Lisa looked at him expectantly. He sighed, seeing that he wasn't going to get out of it as easily as he wanted. "I thought that'd be obvious, Lisa."

Lisa knew it was obvious, but that didn't mean that she didn't want to hear it.

"Then say it," she said desperately.

"Why?" Jackson asked, turning away from her. She put her hand against his cheek and turned him to face her, her eyes boring into him.

"Say it," she said.

"No," Jackson refused.

"I love you," Lisa said clearly, enunciating every syllable. Time froze. Jackson stared at her and didn't know what to say. Lisa started back and waited. For once, she had the upper hand.

"I can't," Jackson said, standing up and starting to pace. "I can't say it, Lisa. Why are we even talking about this? Why are we…?"

"We might not get another chance to talk about it," Lisa said slowly. Jackson stopped pacing and looked at her. She was so calm about it. He was freaking out. How quickly the roles reversed.

"Why does it matter, then?" Jackson asked furiously. He looked like a cornered lion, and Lisa was the careful trainer trying to coax him to settle down.

"Please," she said gently.

"No," Jackson said bitterly.

"Jackson…" Lisa said warningly.

"We have other things to worry about," Jackson said. Lisa got to her feet and walked over to him until their faces were very close. Their lips were almost touching.

"Until that phone rings, we have nothing," she whispered. Her lips gently brushed against his. When he didn't pull them away, she pushed into him. He kissed her back hungrily, but she pulled away. "I love you," she said. Jackson tried to kiss her again. She pulled back again.

"I love you," he growled. Despite the reluctance and the anger, it was clear that he meant it. Lisa let him kiss her.

The phone rang.

Jackson groaned and flipped it open.

"Did you get it?" he asked.

He was met with hysterical sobbing. His blood froze cold.

"Leya?" Lisa said fearfully, leaning closer over Jackson so she could hear better. "Leya, are you okay?"

"Four-oh-seven-six," Leya choked out. "That's the code."

"Leya, what the fuck happened?" Jackson asked as Lisa started pulling up the rug.

"He's dead, Jackson," Leya wailed. "He's dead!"

Jackson didn't need any clarification.

"We'll be right there," he said gently.

"Hurry," Leya whispered, and then the phone died.

ooooooooooooooooo

Brian stood in the center, watching as the battle was waged around him. He wasn't afraid of anything hitting him. After all, why should he care? The whole thing was a goddamned suicide mission anyway. He was surprised he was able to pull it off. His men shot at the complex's men, and the complex men shot back. But they were the same men. Brothers were killing brothers. Sisters were killing sisters. It was fucking poetic, really.

He had forgotten all about the guardroom for the moment. One of his men died. He laughed. One of their men died. He cried. He didn't know who his own men were, but he knew that they were dying, and he didn't give a shit because where there was one man, there was another man, and another, and another.

He had never had a really firm grip on reality, but he found himself wavering on the line even more than he had in past years. In past days, even, and that was when he was at his absolute worst. For a moment, he felt a brief flash of horror at what he was doing. But then he shoved it back down again and told himself that it was for the best. That he had to rid the world of this evil place.

A child ran by him, screaming. He watched him go. He had to be about eight years old, if even. Brian tore his eyes away from the child just before a bullet ripped through his tiny body. One of Brian's men laughed. Brian ached inside, but he laughed too. He laughed because he couldn't afford to look weak.

He turned and walked down the hallway, back towards the guardroom.

ooooooooooooooooo

Leya grabbed the three guns off the ground and dragged herself back into the guardroom, sobbing and wailing. She didn't let herself look at Joey. She didn't know what she would do, then. His death was already pressing against her chest like a lead weight. She wished she could have just gone insane and gotten it over with, but she knew she was going to be one of the ones who was going to have to deal with their grief while in a perfectly sane state of mind. She envied Brian Greene and his insanity, then. More than anything, she wished she could have what he had. She wished that she could deny what was behind her down the hall, lying with his eyes open in a pool of blood.

It had been his idea to go out there. He had seen Jacqueline being led away, and he had run out without even an explanation. Leya supposed the damsel in distress was too much for him to resist. But in the end,_ he _had been the damsel in distress, but Leya wasn't fast enough to save him.

She forced herself to stop that. There was no way she could have helped him. As soon as he burst out the door, he was beyond her control. Nothing she had done would have been able to save him. She knew that, and she thanked God for it, because she didn't have to spend her entire life blaming herself like some people she had known in the complex. Jimmy, for example. He never forgave himself. But there was a difference there, because Jimmy _could_ have done something to save his wife. Leya wouldn't have been able to stop what had just happened unless she was superwoman or something.

She knew that knowing that it wasn't her fault shouldn't have made it any easier, but somehow it did. Somehow she was able to put his death to the back of her mind. She knew it would come out later, but she also knew that she had a job to do. One that could very well mean the lives of everyone else she knew by the end of the day if she failed. She walked over to the large computer console, and she entered the code that would start the emergency signal. The small dome on top of the computer lit up bright red.

ooooooooooooooooo

All around the world, men and women hailing from Jimmy's complex and from other complexes across the country received a call on their cell phones or a page on their beepers. They only had to look at the ID to know what was happening. The ID was 'hostile attack, Paradise'. Everyone who received that warning knew that they had to get back to the complex, and they had to come prepared.

Some were on assignments. Some were on vacation. Some were just strolling down the street amiably. No matter where they were, they stopped what they were doing, and they headed back to their cars or grabbed a cab, and they moved furiously back towards their home, their weapons ready.

ooooooooooooooooo

"This is Laurette 'Leya' Renee," Leya spoke formally into the transmitter. "Sergeant Brian Greene has attempted a takeover of Paradise. Anyone who is able should return _immediately _with the appropriate weapons. Move to the front door. I am in control of the door, and I will let you in. Please hurry."

She put the transmitter down and pressed send. Simultaneously, everyone who had received the alert earlier picked up their cell phones and listened to the message that was being played. They were shocked, confused, and angry. They wanted blood. That was exactly what Leya had intended.

ooooooooooooooooo

Jackson didn't tell Lisa what Leya had said about Joey being dead. He just opened the door with the code, and then they practically slid down the ladder to the bottom in their haste. They forgot to close the door, but Jackson figured it didn't matter. He grabbed Lisa's hand once they reached the bottom and took off running at a pace that Lisa wasn't sure she could have run even on her best day if Jackson wasn't dragging her along for the ride.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"Me and you are going back around to the front door," Jackson said simply. "We're going to get into the guardhouse, and you're going to stay there with Leya. I'm going to go find Brian, and I'm going to kill him."

Lisa glanced at Jackson sympathetically, but she didn't say anything. She knew it would be hard for him to kill his father, _again_. Even if the first one had turned out to not be his father at all.

"What are me and Leya going to do?"

Jackson's phone vibrated. He pulled it out of the pocket and glanced at the ID. He smiled.

"She already sent out the alert," he said. "That's good. Everyone who's out will…"

"I know how the alert works," Lisa said impatiently. "What are me and Leya going to do?"

"You and Leya are going to stay in the guardroom and make sure that no one gets out who isn't supposed to get out, and no one gets in who isn't supposed to get in."

Lisa nodded. For once, she was perfectly content to just stay behind the scenes and do something that wouldn't involve death. She had had enough action for one day.

ooooooooooooooooo

"So that means that something bad is happening there?" Joe asked angrily as Harrison tried patiently to explain the concept of the alert.

"Yes," Harrison said. "I'm sure they've sent it out by now. Which means that everyone will be heading back there to save your daughter. But none of them have the power that I do. I might be the only one back there who has it. And I need to take your car and get back there."

Joe stared at Harrison like he was an idiot. Which he very well might have been.

"You want to take _my _car?" he asked.

"I have to go save Jackson and Lisa," Harrison said tactfully. Joe's face immediately clouded over with rage.

"Take it," he growled. "And here."

Joe shuffled into the living room and came back out a few moments later with a gun. Harrison looked at it with surprise.

"Thank you," he said.

"I got it after the last time," Joe said, shrugging. "I thought there was no use in being unprotected all the time. I have another one upstairs if you…?"

"No, it's okay," Harrison said quickly.

"Actually," Jessie cut in. "I'd like one."

Harrison looked at her with surprise, and she stared back levelly, daring him to challenge her. He didn't, and Joe led Jessie up the stairs to get the gun. Joe's phone rang.

"Answer that, would you?" Joe called down the stairs. Harrison sighed and picked up the phone.

"Hello?" he answered in a voice that sounded so close to Joe's that no one would be able to tell the difference. Impressions had always been his strong point.

"I see you," said a familiar voice. "Look in the back yard. Hi, Harrison."

"Oh my God," Harrison whispered.

"Let me in," the voice said. "We have some work to do."

ooooooooooooooooo

Leya watched the cameras with growing horror. Everyone was dying, it seemed. She saw people she knew, people she loved, being gunned down by other people who she knew and loved. It was impossible to tell who was who in the haze. She wondered who she should be cheering for. It didn't matter if any of those people were Brian's men or not; no one paused long enough to figure it out. Everyone was killing everyone.

Someone started to pound on the door slowly and methodically. Leya jumped with surprise and glanced at the camera. Brian was leaning against the door, yelling something. Leya pressed the intercom button.

"Fuck you," she screamed. "Fuck you, you fucking asshole. Go fucking die."

Brian stopped pounding and in the camera she could see him staring at the intercom with real surprise. She felt a small stab of pleasure at surprising him. Brian pressed the intercom roughly.

"Nifty tool we have here," he said with a soft chuckle. "Silly me, forgetting it was here, earlier. Is that you, Leya dear? I couldn't tell with all the screaming."

"I'm not letting you in you fucking cocksucker," Leya growled back, the venom in her voice surprising even her. "Stay out there and fucking pound on the door all you want. I'm not fucking letting you in."

"How'd you get in there, Leya?" Brian asked teasingly. "I see your friend didn't make it."

Leya didn't answer. She just stared at the camera. She could see Brian watching the door. She could see Joey lying on the ground in the background. Brian stared at the camera furiously, and then started to walk away. Then, he pulled out his gun and started to shoot Joey's body again and again and again. Leya screamed with rage and started for the door, but then she stopped and slowly sank to her knees. She knew she couldn't do anything about it. There was nothing to be done. If she went out there, he would kill her, and he would take over the complex. She couldn't let that happen. She had to stay there.

She didn't look at the camera again. She just sat there and closed her eyes and rocked back and forth and cried. Cold pain echoed through her heart, and she cried because she knew that nothing was ever going to be the same again.

ooooooooooooooooo

Jackson and Lisa walked up to the front gate. Jackson pressed the call button. There was a short pause, and then Leya's voice came over the intercom.

"Thank God," she sobbed. "Brian just left. I don't know when he's going to be back. Hurry."

She opened the door for them, and they hurried in. The guardroom door was standing open. Leya was sitting against the wall inside. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, and she was crying. Lisa fell to her knees beside her and wrapped her arms around the poor girl's body.

"Shh, honey, it's okay," Lisa said in an uncharacteristically maternal voice. "There was nothing you could have done."

She had seen Joey's body, of course, lying there full of bullet holes down the hallway. It had been right next to Jacqueline's and two other men who she could only assume worked for Brian. She thought she had a vague idea of what had happened, but she couldn't be sure. In any case, she knew that Leya would need to hear it. She knew from experience that that was the only thing that made people feel calm; knowing that it wasn't their fault.

"I know," Leya cried. She didn't say anything else. Jackson stood in the doorway watching them for a short while, then walked in and closed the door, looking carefully at the monitors. Finally, he saw Brian walking down the hallway towards Jackson's room.

"Lock the door behind me," he said tightly, and then he picked up the gun that was at Leya's feet. After a moment of thought, he pocketed another one. He left one for Lisa, and one for Leya.

"You're a terrible shot," Lisa reminded him. He nodded gravely.

"I know," he said bitterly. The tone in his voice said that that didn't mean anything. He was going to go out there no matter what kind of shot he was. Lisa had a bad feeling about that, but she didn't say anything. She knew that Jackson wouldn't be swayed. She just nodded in return

Jackson turned and walked out the door. Lisa stayed where she was for a moment, and then she jumped up and ran after him. Outside, she could hear the dying and the screams, but they were far enough from the center that they were out of the way

"Jackson!" she exclaimed breathlessly. He was starting down the hallway towards the four bodies. He turned to face Lisa with surprise when she spoke. She walked up to him quickly and wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. It wasn't dramatic or life changing, but it was a kiss. "Be careful."

"I will," Jackson replied. And then he turned and walked away.


	17. I Will Never Let You Fall

Wow, so school is basically kicking my ASS. I've had soo little time to update. God, I thought senior year was supposed to be _easier _than junior year!

Well, here's the update. Eat it, smoke it, rape it. Do whatever you'd like. But please review!

The sequel is underwayyy!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

* * *

**Chapter 17: **I Will Never Let You Fall 

_When I see your smile  
Tears run down my face  
__I can't replace  
And now that I'm strong I've figured out  
How this world turns cold and breaks through my soul  
And I know I'll find deep inside me  
__I can be the one _

**I will never let you fall  
**I'll stand up with you forever  
I'll be there for you through it all  
Even if saving you sends me to heaven

It's ok. It's ok. It's ok.

Seasons are changing  
And waves are crashing  
And stars are falling all for us  
Days grow longer and nights grow shorter  
I can show you I'll be the one

I will never let you fall  
I'll stand up with you forever  
I'll be there for you through it all  
Even if saving you sends me to heaven

Cuz you're my, you're my, my true love, my whole heart  
Please don't throw that away  
Cuz I'm here for you  
Please don't walk away,  
Please tell me you'll stay, stay

Use me as you will  
Pull my strings just for a thrill  
And I know I'll be ok  
Though my skies are turning gray

I will never let you fall  
I'll stand up with you forever  
I'll be there for you through it all  
Even if saving you sends me to heaven

**Your Guardian Angel  
****The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus**

* * *

"This is it," Harrison said to the men who stood outside the complex with him. Five men and two women. One of the women was Jesse. "This is the last chance we're going to have. We were able to get a list of Brian's operatives, so keep an eye out for them and harm _no one _else." 

He nodded thankfully to the other woman who had supplied him with the list. She nodded in return.

"These are our friends," said one of the men. His name was Jamal.

"I know," Harrison said, sighing. "Trust me, I know. But it's them or us. They're killing your other friends in there."

A few men murmured. The youngest man there stared at Harrison with horror. He was just barely twenty years old, and his name was Adam.

"How are we supposed to beat them?" he asked. He was new to the complex. Harrison only knew because Jackson had taken a special interest in him. He had come from the Kerrang Company in Boston; another offshoot of Paradise. Apparently, he wasn't as ready as Jackson had thought he was.

"I don't know," Harrison replied. "We just have to get in there and try. Who doesn't have a weapon?"

"I don't," Adam replied. Harrison sighed.

"Okay," he said. "As far as I've been lead to understand it, there's going to be someone in the guardhouse. You can stay there with her and guard her to make sure that nothing gets to her. Understood?"

"Got it," Adam said. He sounded embarrassed. Harrison didn't feel like making the little tart feel any better about himself. He turned to the other men. "The rest of you are going to stick with me."

The men all nodded. Harrison turned to Jesse.

"You're going to stay with Adam and Leya," he said quietly.

"I thought you'd say that," Jesse said with a heavy sigh. "Okay, I'll stay."

"I wasn't giving you a choice," Harrison said simply. Jesse sighed and looked down at the gun that she held in her hands. Harrison turned back to everyone assembled.

"Let's not stand around here all day, okay?" Jamal interjected. "Let's get the fuck in there."

Harrison nodded.

"Let's go," he said, and they walked into the building.

* * *

Vincent approached the complex stealthily. He didn't know what was going on or how they were going to get out of that, but he had gotten an alert on his cell phone. He didn't dare risk calling anyone. Not even Harrison. (He had been chagrined to realize that the building he was in wasn't Bob's Air Conditioning at all) He didn't know who had been compromised. 

He was still confused as to the symbol for trust written in blood on the ceiling. What had been the point of that? Who would have done that? He wasn't sure. Then, his phone rang.

He picked it up slowly and carefully. The number was blocked. He debated answering it, but at the last moment decided that he had to.

"Hello?" he said into the phone.

"Ah, Vincent," said Brian Greene's voice on the other line. "There you are!"

"Brian? Where are you?" Vincent asked with a sigh of relief.

"I'm inside the complex," Brian replied. Vincent noted that he sounded awfully calm for someone who was in the middle of a war zone.

"Where? Are you with Jackson? What's going on in there?"

"I'm not sure," Brian said. "You'd better come in here. Some serious shit is about to go down."

"God, the last thing we need is another massacre," Vincent groaned. Brian paused, and for a second, Vincent thought he heard the man laughing before Brian's voice spoke. He dismissed the notion out of his head immediately, slightly irritated with himself for letting his imagination get the best of him.

"I know," Brian said. "Come on, come in here. I'm in Jackson's room right now. Come find me."

"Will do," Vincent said. "I know just the passage to take."

* * *

Jackson stalked down the hallway stealthily, his feet not making a noise on the smooth tile. He could hear screaming and shooting in the center. He cursed his bad luck and made his way to the door. There were several bullet holes in the door already, and he peered through one. 

It looked just as it had three months before. There was blood everywhere. Plaster swirled through the air and coated everything in an ashy off-white. People ran screaming before they were shot down. Children, women, anyone. He recognized some of the killers. His old friend Mikey shot down two kids. Jackson recognized the two kids as Mikey's best friend's kids. Mikey was the godfather of one of them. He had been present at their births. He had spent nearly every waking moment with those kids. And he gunned them down like all of that meant nothing.

Jackson swung the door open and fired. Mikey fell to the ground, dead. Another man turned towards Jackson and fired. Jackson ducked out of the way and hid beside a wall.

"Where is Brian Greene?" he shouted.

"You're on their fuckin' side too, huh?" asked the man. His name was Steven. "Even you? Christ, am I the only one still defendin' this place?"

"Brian Greene is behind this!" Jackson yelled.

"Yeah, I fuckin' know," Steven said with annoyance, firing at the plaster. Jackson winced despite himself.

"I'm not with him," Jackson tried to say calmly, but his voice was a lot shakier than he would have liked. "Have you seen him?"

He waited for an answer. Steven clearly didn't know what to do.

"He went into your room," he said finally. "I'm gonna have my gun pointed at you the entire time you walk across the room, so don't even fuckin' think about it."

"I won't," Jackson promised. He slowly emerged from behind the wall, his hands up. He realized he was putting a while lot of blind trust into the man, but he knew that he had no other choice. He slowly made his way across the open floor, and then slowly opened his door and stepped inside.

* * *

Jacqueline was in a world of pain when she finally came to. Her first thought was that she was in Hell. But then she opened her eyes and saw the all-too familiar fluorescent lights. She was still alive. She heard people talking nearby. She forced herself to not cry out, and she shifted her body so she could see who it was. There was a group of people. She forced herself to count. Seven. She couldn't tell who they were because her vision was blurred and confused, but she knew there were seven. They were standing by the guardhouse door, and two of them went in. Jacqueline closed her eyes. Somehow, she knew that it would be better to play dead. They were with Leya. Leya would cause only more pain if she knew Jacqueline was still alive. 

She heard murmuring voices, and then they stopped. Footsteps made their way towards her.

"Oh, shit," someone muttered. Jacqueline recognized the voice as that boy, Harrison. The one who was better looking than any man or woman had any right to be.

"Fuck, Joey," someone else muttered.

"Let's keep going," someone said. "We'll deal with this later. Let's go."

Some people murmured agreement, and eventually they all started walking away. Jacqueline waited until she heard the last of the footsteps receding down the hallway, then she breathed a sigh of relief. She opened her eyes again, the pain overwhelming her.

And then she froze.

"I thought I saw your pretty little chest moving," said the apparition in front of her. Surely it couldn't be.

"You…" Jacqueline started, her eyes bulging with horror.

"Pity I'll have to put you out of your misery. I'd rather enjoy watching you _suffer_."

Jacqueline struggled to get to her feet, but suddenly she was staring down the barrel of a gun.

"Please…" she began. She never thought she'd resort to begging, but there she was. Doing exactly that. "Please, don't."

"He never loved you."

And Scarlett Carver pulled the trigger.

* * *

Vincent dropped down into Jackson's room from the ceiling just as the door opened. He rolled behind the desk and heard whoever had entered hide behind the door. There was a moment of silence. 

"Vince?" called the voice shakily. Vincent sighed with relief.

"Thank God," he said, standing up. "Jackson, Jesus."

Jackson walked across the room and clasped hands with his friend.

"You're okay," Jackson said with relief. He glanced towards the door that led to his room. It was closed. "The bastard's in there."

"Who?" Vincent asked. Jackson's eyes narrowed.

"Brian," Jackson said.

"Why's Brian in there?" Vincent asked suspiciously. His hand slowly traveled to his gun. Jackson looked at him with surprise.

"You've got to be shitting me," he said. "Vincent, come on. It's me."

Vincent's gun was in his face before he could say another word. Jackson stared at him, too shocked to move.

"Why is Brian in there?" Vincent asked slowly.

"He's the one behind all of this," Jackson said desperately. "Behind the fire at Lisa's, the attack on the hospital, Scarlett's death. Everything."

Vincent stared at Jackson, suspicion in his gaze.

"Why would he do that?" he asked brokenly. "Brian wouldn't do that."

"Would _I_?" Jackson asked pointedly.

"I've seen you do a lot of fucked up shit," Vincent answered.

"Vincent, I'm your best friend," Jackson replied, his eyes wide and honest. He was speaking slowly and carefully, and Vincent resented every syllable of it.

"And he's your fucking _father_," Vincent all but screamed.

"Vincent?" came a shaky voice from behind the door. "Oh, thank God. Vincent, it's you."

"Brian?" Vincent shouted.

"Yeah, it's me," Brian yelled. "It was me who left you that message."

"The trust symbol?" Vincent asked.

"Yeah," Brian replied.

Vincent looked even more suspicious of Jackson, then. He frowned and turned towards the door.

"How did you know I knew that?" he asked.

"She told me," Brian replied. "She told me right as she was dying. She told me to tell you that she trusted you. She had the tattoo on her wrist…"

Vincent closed his eyes and shook his head. His blonde hair was tipped in blood. He didn't remember how it got there. Tears stung his eyes.

"You fucking _bastard_!" he yelled to Jackson suddenly, training the gun on him with deadly calm. "You fucking two-timing bastard! _You _killed her!"

"Vincent, no!" Jackson exclaimed, his hands moving to cover his face though he knew that that wasn't going to do any good. "I swear to fucking God, I had nothing to do with any of this!"

"You were always too goddamned ambitious for your own head," Vincent sneered.

"Vincent!" Brian yelled suddenly. "Vincent, hurry. There isn't much time. He has something even worse planned."

"It's _him_!" Jackson shouted, pointing to the door. "Him!"

"I'm coming to get you out," Vincent growled to Brian through the door. Then, he lunged at Jackson.

The force of his tackle knocked Jackson to the ground on his back. Vincent landed on top of him, and he slammed his pistol into the side of Jackson's head.

"Vincent, stop!" Jackson yelled hoarsely, trying to roll Vincent onto his back. But Vincent was prepared. He punched Jackson in the jaw. Then he jumped up and pulled Jackson up too, swiftly kneeing him in the stomach. Jackson made a noise of surprise and fell to the ground.

Vincent hurried towards the door. Jackson pulled himself to his knees, his hand cupped on his stomach, and saw what Vincent was doing.

"Vincent, _no_!" he screamed. But it was too late. Vincent unlocked the door.

Two things happened at once. The first being that the door to the center opened, and Scarlett and Harrison ran in.

"Vincent!" Scarlett yelled.

The second thing that happened was that Vincent turned just as the door flew open. Brian emerged. Vincent's face lit up into a radiant smile.

"Scarlett!" he yelled exuberantly.

"Vincent!" Jackson screamed.

Then, Brian fired.

Vincent flew backwards almost in slow motion. Scarlett's scream pierced the air. Jackson reached behind him and grabbed the gun out of her hands before she could react. He whirled around before Brian could fire, and he didn't even bother aiming before he shot.

The bullet struck Brian in the chest. He fired, and Jackson hollered in pain before shooting again.

Harrison finally snapped out of whatever trance he was in and scrambled to get his gun. But Brian fired again. Jackson was down. Scarlett grabbed the gun from his hands as he fell, just as Brian turned on Harrison. She fired, and she hit him square in the middle of the forehead.

There was silence, and then a thud as Brian's body hit the floor.

* * *

The center was silent. The hallways were silent. Nothing moved in the whole place. Lisa watched the cameras with her hands to her mouth. Nothing was moving at all. Then, she watched as doorways up and down hallways slowly began to open. People stuck their heads out, whispering to each other in their fear. 

"Look," Jessie said, her eyes tear-filled. "They're alive."

"Thank God," Adam murmured.

One-by-one, people began to creep out of hiding. They made their way to the center; pilgrims on a dangerous journey. Some had weapons. Others looked too dazed to do anything. Leya slowly reached over and turned the alert off.

"It's done," she said, and then she cried.

Adam and Jessie hurried to comfort her, but Lisa ran to the door and threw it open. She ran down the hallway as fast as she could, closer and closer to the noises of grief and horror that came from beyond the large double doors. She threw them open and ran past the mourning. She would let herself be sad later. She couldn't think about it right then. She couldn't let herself.

The door to Jackson's room was closed. She pulled it open and was met with Harrison's pale and shaking face. He stared at her as if he was seeing a ghost.

"Are you okay?" Lisa asked. Harrison stared.

"Lisa, get in here!" Scarlett yelled from within the room. Lisa pushed past Harrison and ran in.

"Oh my God!" she screamed. Jackson was lying on the ground in a pool of blood. For a long, sickening moment she thought for sure that he was dead. Then, his eyes opened and he stared at her with his trademark annoyed scowl.

"Please don't scream," he practically grunted.

He looked just as he had that day when her father shot him. God, the irony there was so fucking real. Lisa glanced over at Scarlett. She was cradling Vincent in her arms. Another heart-stopper. But he was alive too. Scarlett looked up at Lisa and smiled through her tears.

"He missed vital organs on both of them," she said disbelievingly.

"Like father, like son," Jackson muttered bitterly.

Lisa smiled and lowered herself to her knees beside Jackson. Harrison remembered what he was supposed to be doing and ran off to find the doctor, and hope he was still alive.

"How many times do you have to scare me before you're content just being healthy?" Lisa asked, helping him into a sitting position. He smiled at her weakly.

"At least a few more," he replied. Lisa leaned forward and kissed him gently. He made a noise.

"What?" Lisa asked, pulling back.

"You've never tasted so good," Jackson answered seriously. Lisa smiled again and leaned forward once more, before pulling back sharply and turning to Scarlett.

"You told me you'd tell me why you aren't dead," she reminded Scarlett. Scarlett laughed and helped Vincent to get to his feet. Lisa did the same for Jackson.

"I was never in any danger of dying," Scarlett said with a shrug. "The bullet didn't hit as close to the heart as everyone thought it did. Brian just said I died so it would be easier to get Vincent to work with him. He didn't expect that I'd be up as quick."

"Shouldn't you still be in the hospital?" Vincent muttered.

"It's like Bennie used to say," Scarlett replied with a smile 'A good Carver is harder to keep down than an erection while getting a lap dance from a hot chick.' Personally, I don't usually live by that, but it applies here."

"You're getting right back in the hospital when we get fixed up," Vincent said harshly, slurring his words slightly. Scarlett opened the door to the room.

"Sure thing," she said.

Lisa noticed that she looked tired and worn out. She knew she was going to have to force Scarlett away from Vincent's bedside once they got them to a hospital, but she reminded herself that she had to do it no matter _how _good Scarlett claimed she felt.

They emerged from Jackson's room to find that all eyes were on them. Leya, Jessie, and Adam stood in the front of the group. Everyone else behind them, blood-covered and bruised, watched with vacant eyes. No one moved.

Then, Leya raised her hands, drenched still in Jacqueline's blood, and she began to clap. The noise echoed through the center, bouncing off the dome and rebounding. Leya kept clapping. Adam was next. Then Jessie. Then one-by-one, everyone started. Every man, woman, and child left alive was clapping, and cheering, and whistling. All for Jackson, Vincent, Lisa, and Scarlett.

Lisa glanced at Scarlett, and she saw that the other woman was crying and hugging Vincent. Vincent was crying as well. She looked at Jackson, and saw that he was looking at the ground. It was as close to crying as he was going to come in public. She smiled through her tears and hugged him. He looked down at her with surprise and hugged her with the arm that wasn't injured. And then he kissed her.

"It's going to be all right," he whispered. "We did it."

Lisa cried. Not because of his words, but because of the realization that they really had made it.

* * *

Leya walked into her room and sat down on her bed, staring at the phone in her hand. She sighed and looked down at the address book in her other. After a long moment of biting her lip, she dialed the number written in Joey's careful, feminine handwriting. A tear dropped onto the paper, and she brushed it away absently. The phone rang a few times. A voice answered which Leya had never heard, but she knew it was who she was looking for. But still, she asked. 

"Is Hillary there, please?" she asked, not bothering to keep the trepidation out of her voice.

"This is she," the perky, smiling voice responded. Leya closed her eyes. "Who's this?"

"This is…um…Leya Renee. I…"

"Joey's Leya?" Hillary asked with pleased surprise. "Oh, it's so great to finally talk to you! Joey talks so much about you."

Leya felt a sob building up, so she put her hand in front of her mouth, biting down on her tongue to keep herself from making any noise. This was going to be harder than she thought.

"Um…Hillary, I really, _really _don't know how to tell you this, but…"

"Hun, I know all about it," Hillary said quickly. "Joey told me that you were in love with him. I really, really don't care. It's okay. I mean, I understand why you'd love him. And, you know, he loves you too. More than me, I think, sometimes." Hillary gave a great sigh. "He never shuts up about how you're the greatest friend he's ever had."

"Stop!" Leya practically screamed, not even trying to keep the tears out of her voice. "Hillary, Joey's dead."

There was silence on the other end. And then a scream.

* * *

Jackson lay in his hospital bed with an IV stuck in his arm and a head full of bad memories. He stared at the light on the ceiling above him and tried to block everything out. Everything except Lisa. Of course, Lisa managed to get blocked out, while everything else came drifting like thunderclouds to sit over his head and storm away. 

So much had happened in the past few days. First, Lisa's life was threatened. Then, Jacqueline returned and made him question everything he had fought for in the past six months. Then, Scarlett was shot, and he thought she was dead. He found out that Tom was part of the conspiracy against them. He spent a good amount of time suspecting that two of his very best friends were behind the entire operation. Then, Jacqueline had forced him to choose between Lisa and his father. His father had turned out to be the one behind everything. The boy that Leya loved had died. Scarlett had come back. He had been shot. He had shot his own father. And somewhere in all of that, he fell in love.

God, things had never been more fucked up.

And yet, everything in his mind was cleared up. He understood exactly what he wanted. He understood exactly how he felt. He felt a hell of a lot of confusion and pain, of course, but along with that came relief and happiness and _love_. Was that so bad?

The door opened. He knew who it was before he even saw her face.

"Hey," she said sadly.

"Hey," he replied.

"They say you're going to be fine," Lisa said, forcing a smile. "Scarlett and Vincent are okay, too. Scarlett's been through a hell of a lot in the past three months, huh?"

"And yet she's always the most cheerful of all of us," Jackson said, shaking his head. "I don't know how she does it."

"I don't either," Lisa said, perching on the edge of his bed. Jackson smirked up at her.

"What?" Lisa asked self-consciously.

"Last time you visited me in the hospital, it was to tell me that you thought I was an egotistical bastard," he reminded her. "Remember that?"

"That was the day after you tried to kill me," Lisa pointed out, bending down and kissing him on the lips chastely. Jackson shook his head and kissed her forcefully.

"No babying me," he growled playfully. She smiled at him and kissed him more fully. He grew serious. "How's Leya doing?"

"She went to call Joey's girlfriend," Lisa said, looking down at the ground sadly. "Nothing's going to be the same for her again."

"She was too hung up on that boy," Jackson said, making a face. "God, I wish she had come to her senses before he died."

"He seemed like a great kid," Lisa said defensively.

"He was," Jackson admitted. "But not for her. She could never be happy with a guy like him. He wouldn't give her what she deserves."

"I'm sure you'd say the same thing about you and I," Lisa reminded him, standing up and crossing her arms across her chest. Jackson grimaced as he thought about it.

"Actually, yes," he said. "I _do_ think that you'd be happier with someone else."

"Jackson," Lisa said, shaking her head slowly. "I couldn't be happier with anyone else. Anyone else would look too common next to you."

"Since when is common a bad thing?" Jackson asked pointedly.

"Jackson, these past three months have been the best three months of my life," Lisa said. "I love our moments, and I love our fights even more. Going back to someone simple would just be too boring."

Jackson smirked slightly. He had an idea about what Lisa was talking about. He loved their little fights, as infuriating as she was sometimes. He loved the way she glared at him when she was angry over something stupid. He loved the way her voice rose in pitch, and she reminded him of an angry mouse. He chuckled to himself at the thought.

"If you stay," he said warningly once he was finished laughing. "One day, you're going to get a call, and you're going to hear that it was _me _who got shot in the head. Or maybe tortured. Or maybe missing."

Lisa closed her eyes and bit her lip, sighing shakily. Jackson felt badly that he made her think about it.

"I know," she whispered sadly. "I know it'll happen. And, trust me, I'll die inside. But I'd rather have you for a short time than never have you at all."

Jackson sighed.

"You're stubborn, aren't you?" she asked.

"Would I still be here if I wasn't?" she asked. "I would have probably given in to Anthony's demands three months ago, and I probably would have been killed. By you, remember."

"I never intended on killing you," Jackson said pointedly. "Remember, I went in there to help you."

"I think you would have killed me if they had forced you to," Lisa said.

"I wouldn't have," Jackson protested with annoyance. "That would have been a waste of my time. I didn't go into that hellish place to protect you, only to have to kill you."

Lisa made a face, but she didn't say anything. Jackson growled under his breath, but he didn't say anything either. After all, that was just another example of their loving fights.

"I'll be back later," Lisa said. "I'm gonna go see Scarlett."

"Okay," Jackson said, smiling up at her. Lisa bent down and kissed him once more before walking out of the room.

* * *

Scarlett was propped up in bed when Lisa entered her room. She smiled when she saw who it was. 

"Hey, Lisa," she said. "How's Jackson doing?"

"He's fine," Lisa said. "One bullet got him pretty good in the side, so they're making him wait there. Knowing him it'll probably only be overnight."

"God, he must be killing himself, wanting to get out of there," Scarlett said with a laugh.

"He didn't let on," Lisa said, grinning. "I'm still in shock that you're okay. I thought you were dead!"

"I thought I was, too," Scarlett said, shaking her head. "Honestly, I thought I had died."

"How'd you get here?" Lisa asked. "I'm gonna guess they didn't just let you out of the hospital."

"Actually, after I was in the hospital for a few hours, they came and took me away," Scarlett said. "Brian and them. They took me to this weird place where apparently they were holding Vincent too. Brian was going completely crazy. He had one of my paintings, which I had actually given to him as a present, and he was shaking it in my face laughing and telling me that he was going to play a trick on Vincent. Only the trick turned out to be helping Vincent out of captivity. I think Brian was a little nuttier than he let on. Anyway, so I was really drugged out for a while, and I heard Vincent shouting Brian's name, but I couldn't answer. They had me in this creepy white room and I was attached to all sorts of tubes. So I started pulling them out and forced myself to get up. I got dressed, and then I ran to the room where Vincent was. But he was gone. So then I got out of the place and saw that we were really close to your house. I was gonna go there and use the phone, and I saw Harrison standing in the window. And then we basically got back here."

"What about the list of operatives?" Lisa asked. "Harrison said that you got the list of twenty-four people who were working for Brian."

"Yeah," Scarlett said. "They had a fuckin' meeting right in the middle of the place. Right in front of me. They didn't think I'd be going anywhere to tell anyone."

"Wait a second," Lisa said quickly. "Why would Brian let Vincent out? He could have gone and gotten you, and then you would have been able to tell everyone exactly who was on the team. Which, I guess, is what you did, but you did it yourself. But still, why would he risk that?"

"He's crazy," Scarlett said simply. "But I mean…I guess…I don't know, maybe there was still some good in him left. Maybe he almost _wanted _it to happen."

Lisa thought about that for a moment.

"It's a long-shot," she said.

"Yeah," Scarlett agreed.

They were silent for a little while, each of them thinking about Brian. Finally, Scarlett turned to Lisa.

"You know," she said. "He really does love you."

"I know," Lisa said quietly.

"I know you think you know," Scarlett said quickly. "But I mean it when I say that he really, truly does. It may not be that easy to see. I mean, the guy's like a closed book. But he really does. I've never seen him go out of his way to protect _anyone _like he did for you. That is like him standing on the stage of a sold out concert in a fucking stadium to tell everyone that he loves you. So basically, he loves you a hell of a lot more than he's ever loved anyone else."

Lisa smiled thoughtfully and nodded.

"Thank you," she said. "For telling me."

"You're welcome," Scarlett replied. "And just remember. If he doesn't show his love enough, then just think about the fact that he isn't blowing you off every two seconds, and he isn't calling you a miserable slut. Because that's what he does to people he vaguely likes."

Lisa really laughed, then. Scarlett was so right.

Scarlett smiled as well. She was glad to see Lisa laugh.

"Looks like we can finally start picking up the pieces again," she said with a sigh. "Not my favorite part, but it's a hell of a lot better than watching the pieces falling."

Lisa nodded.

"We can finally start," she said, thinking of Leya. "God, it's gonna be hard."

"Not any harder than last time," Scarlett reminded her. "Jimmy was the worst death I've ever experienced. And then Bennie and Felicia on top of it…" She shook her head, not wanting to go on.

"I know," Lisa said, bending down and giving the other woman a hug. "This is a piece of cake compared to that. And hey, we've already mourned _your _death."

Scarlett smiled.

"Morbid humor," she said. "Not very funny, but I like what I'm starting to see in you, girl."

Lisa smiled, and a companionable silence fell over the both of them as they contemplated the future.


	18. Epilogue

Since it's been such a long wait: here's the epilogue. That's right, this is the final chapter of Move Along.

BUT there will be a sequel soon. Keep an eye out for it.

* * *

**Epilogue**

Lisa stood in the center of the complex. All around her were the bodies of people she had known too briefly. People she had laughed with too seldom. People who she would never see again.

The floor was covered in their blood. Blood united for the cause of the complex. Blood mixed and blended into more blood. Did it really matter who the blood came from? It was blood, and they were dead.

She felt a little lightheaded, but she knew she had to be strong. Jackson and Vincent couldn't do any of the work, and very few survivors were still sticking around. They all promised to be back for the funerals. But help clean up? Never.

Harrison and Jessie stood beside her, clutching each other with wide and frightened eyes. Lisa sighed and turned to them with her hand pressed to her forehead.

"You don't have to do this," she said quietly. "Jessie, you don't know any of these people."

"I want to have known them," Jessie said simply, looking down at one woman whose eyes were closed and her mouth twisted in a perpetual grimace of pain. "I think if I _had _known them, I would want to be here."

Lisa nodded quietly. She turned to Harrison. He simply shook his head. There was no way he was leaving. Especially if Jessie was staying. Lisa nodded and turned to Leya. The other girl was staring at the ground, unmoving. Adam was walking up behind her, watching where he stepped with a disgusted expression on his face.

"I don't want you to feel like you have to do this," Lisa said carefully to Leya. Leya glanced up. Her eyes were hard and stony. Lisa inwardly flinched at the emptiness in them.

"I _do_ have to," Leya said simply. She looked back down at the blood-covered ground.

"If you think you can't, just tell me," Lisa said gently. "And I'll get someone to take you to my house, okay?"

Leya looked up at Lisa, her gaze grateful.

"Thank you," she murmured. Lisa nodded.

"You're welcome," she said.

She felt an overwhelming urge to hug Leya, then. She repressed it. She didn't know what Leya needed, but she didn't think that Leya wanted to be touched at the moment. She looked like she was trying to draw further and further into herself.

Lisa turned back to survey the damage. Some men who had volunteered were getting out the body bags. They all looked like they were pretending that it didn't effect them. Like they weren't inwardly crying their eyes out for their fallen friends. None of them were very good at pretending. Lisa could see it in their eyes, in their posture.

She didn't know how long she had been standing there for, but when she moved, she saw that Harrison and Jessie were working together to get a young woman into a body bag. Lisa turned to look for Leya and saw that she was walking across the center purposefully. She was heading for the door that would lead to the front hallway. The hallway where Joey's body lay.

Lisa panicked for a moment, starting to go after her.

"Lisa!" yelled someone across the complex. "Hey, I have a question."

Lisa stopped in her tracks, torn. She didn't want Leya to be alone. She didn't want Leya to do something rash. A question could certainly wait, couldn't it?

"I'll go after her," said a small voice from beside her. Lisa turned and saw that it was Adam. She nodded. He jogged after Leya, and Lisa watched him go with sadness in her heart which she knew would never fully fade.

* * *

Leya closed the door slowly behind her and walked down the long hallway. It was dark due to the fact that someone seemed to have shot out some of the lights (probably Brian, she reasoned), but she could see her way. And she could see the bodies which lay a few feet from the door to the guardhouse.

She knelt beside the body of her fallen best friend. No tears prickled the corners of her eyes. No heart-wrenching sobs escaped her body. She just stared down at him. His chest was littered with bloody bullet holes thanks to Brian's handiwork. His face was unrecognizable. His hair was lying in clumps around his splattered brains. Leya closed her eyes. She saw him laughing, smiling, hugging her, kissing her on the cheek, on the forehead. She saw them playing Frisbee. She saw them driving together. She saw them eating together. Sleeping in one another's arms innocently. Playing video games.

She opened her eyes and looked back at the beautiful ruined face beneath her. The first prickle of salty tears in her eyes alerted her to the fact that there was a lump in her throat. Despite her insistence that she would not cry, she was crying. Tears ran down her face as she fought to control her sobs.

She heard someone walking down the hall towards her. It was that guy from the guardroom. Adam, she vaguely remembered someone calling him. He knelt beside her without a word. And even though he didn't know her, he reached out and pulled her into his arms. He folded her to his chest, and he held her there.

Leya had every mind to yell at him and scream at him for interrupting her. She wanted nothing more than to hit him away and tell him to get the fuck away from her. She hated crying in front of other people. But she knew deep down that she needed someone, anyone.

Her sobs finally broke free, and Adam held her without saying a word, as they knelt together in the mixed blood with the stench of death all around them.

* * *

Harrison and Jessie worked together to get another body into the body bag. Harrison's eyes stung with tears he stubbornly refused to let fall. Jessie wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, not realizing that she had blood smeared there. The blood smeared on her forehead, and there it remained.

They were both coated in blood. If they slipped and fell, they got right back up and didn't bother to check themselves for blood stains. They knew they were there. They knew they were wearing the blood of God knew how many.

Harrison glanced around the center once again as if trying to accept that he was really standing there in the midst of all that death. Again. He thought he had finally found peace after moving into the complex and starting his life over. He had just found the same thing over again. More death. More destruction.

He glanced at Jessie and saw her standing there with her arms folded across her chest stubbornly. He realized faintly that it wasn't all death. It wasn't all destruction. There was such a thing as beauty in his world. Beauty in the form of a petite blonde girl who he found looked more beautiful than she ever had. She was covered in blood and her makeup was running and she had been raped only a few hours before, but she was beautiful.

He walked up to her and pulled her into a hug. She didn't say anything, but let him hug her. Her arms slipped around his waist, and his arms went around her neck. He felt so comfortable with her. It was an amazing feeling.

"I'm sorry you have to be here," he said slowly.

"I'm not," she replied, looking up at him gravely. "So stop being sorry."

Harrison sight and laid his cheek against her hair. She put her head against her chest, and they stayed like that for a very long time.

* * *

Lisa turned away from Harrison and Jessie and looked around the room. She had never seen a more horrible sight. And yet, she couldn't help but feel relieved. It was finally over. Anthony Meyers was dead. Yuri Andropov was dead. Alexander Hillman was dead. Derek was dead. Ben was dead. Jacqueline was dead. And Brian Greene was dead. All of them were dead. All of them but one old man who Jackson would find and kill in a matter of weeks.

Who was left to fight them?

Lisa knew there would always be someone. There would always be a greedy man who just wanted to rule. There would always be the traitors who turned their backs on their friends for money or for power. There would always be the insane law-enforcement officials who wanted to enact their revenge against Jackson and his men. There would always be _someone _out there who wanted a piece of Paradise.

But as sure as Lisa knew this to be true, she knew that Jackson and Vincent would always handle it. They would always win out in the end. Good always triumphed over evil. And though the lines of good and evil were definitely blurred, Lisa knew for sure that there was no way Jackson Rippner could ever be fully evil. He could try his hardest to seem that way, but she knew him better than that. She had gotten to know him better than that in the six months since the Red Eye flight.

Lisa sighed and looked up at the domed ceiling of the center. She knew that it wasn't over. It would never be over. Jackson was right. One day, she would get a call from someone, or someone would knock on her door, and she would hear that Jackson was dead. She knew that that time would come. It might come soon, or it might come in twenty years, but it would come.

Lisa decided right then and there that it didn't matter. She was going to live out the precious time she had with Jackson as if it would end tomorrow. She was going to live out her life to the fullest. She would appreciate ever breath she took; every breath he took.

With a sad and bitter but hopeful smile, Lisa returned to her work.


End file.
